


A Hole Through the Heart

by Quilna



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Delirium, Explosions, Fainting, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Irony, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Misunderstandings, Paranoia, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilna/pseuds/Quilna
Summary: One of the lodger's experiments go badly wrong and Jekyll gets injured.The thing about Jekyll is he's not going to let them know how badly he's hurt. A leader doesn't have weaknesses, after all. A leader puts other people's needs before his own.A leader has to be willing to do anything for those he leads.
Comments: 189
Kudos: 429





	1. Pipeline Transport

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for probably completely inaccurate back injuries.  
> Maybe I can argue that Jekyll's less human since getting Hyde and, therefore, more resilient to fatal injuries.  
> ...That's... Probably too much.
> 
> In fact, warning for inaccurate medical stuff in general.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explosion occurs and the lodgers have to be taken care of.  
> Too bad the most injured person was completely missed.

"Oh God, is he ok?"

"That was quite the explosion!"

"Good going, Luckett, now one of us has to clean this up and it isn't going to be me."

His ears were ringing. It was a sound like a glass bell, he thought.

Ring, ring, _ring._

It drowned out most other noise. Everything else came from under an ocean, distant, faint, barely existent.

That was all he was really aware of. Ringing.

Ring. Ring.

"Jasper! Can you hear me?"

Jasper... Was Jasper ok?

That had been Jasper's name. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to Jasper.

Jekyll shifted.

Pain.

It was white hot against his back and... Sticky, he thought.

That didn't matter though. Was Jasper alright?

One eye was forced, with effort, open. His vision was fuzzy at the edges, blackening with a strange flickering static and what he could see was grey and colourless. The only noise ringing above the continued ringing was his own laboured breaths, shallow to his ears.

"He's alive!"

"Christ, Luckett, the guy's new here, you can't almost kill him on his first week!"

"It was an accident! How badly is he hurt?"

They were there, across the smoke filled, static overlaid room. A crowd around a figure, Jekyll forgotten on the other side of the room.

It was fair, he decided. They didn't like him anyway.

He blinked, shaking off the delirious thought. The room was, thankfully, coming into a lot more focus and he shifted, still feeling the pain, sharp against his back.

It's nothing, he told himself, he wouldn't be _that_ badly hurt, he simply wasn't used to getting hurt and, therefore, it felt worse than it was.

As he stood, something sharp pulled out of his back with a wet sound, the noise lost to Henry's ringing ears and lost to the crowd who were focused on something else. Jekyll stumbled a little before, using every ounce of his gentlemanly charm, he walked normally, ignoring the pain in his back.

The jagged edge of pipe that had been embedded in his back was left behind, still dripping red.

  
  


Jasper was sat up as the lodgers fussed about him. Aside from the ringing ears and bruised head, he felt mostly ok. For all he tried, he couldn't convince him that, living on a farm with horses, he had gotten plenty off kicks to the head far worse than this.

He would live.

"Dr Jekyll!"

The crowd parted at the cry, everyone turning to the newcomer on the scene.

Jekyll seemed, thankfully, to have made it off unscathed from the explosion. Like usual, he had the air of a leader about him, his eyes glinting with determination and his back straight, the coating of dust in his hair the only sign that he had been involved at all.

"Jasper, are you alright?" Jekyll asked, kneeling next to him and staring him worriedly in the eyes.

"Y-yeah. I've had worse." Jasper tried to say, coughing as he inhaled some of the smoke.

"We should get everyone to evacuate this area." Jekyll spoke. He didn't yell in any way but his voice was clear even in the shifting of rubble and the ringing in everyone's ears. "Luckett, Sinnett, can I trust you to carry Jasper out?"

"What? _You're_ not going to do it?" Someone taunted.

It was uncertain who had spoken but there was some grumbling of agreement in the crowd. Jasper thought he saw Jekyll wince.

"...Fine." The wince was over and Jasper could almost think it had been his imagination. "Luckett, you know most about explosions. While Sinnett and I get Jasper out, can I place you in charge of the rest of the evacuation?"

Luckett nodded and the grumbling was over.

On the count of three, cued in by Jekyll, Jekyll and Sinnett both lifted Jasper. The doctor grimaced a little as he did so which wasn't lost on Sinnett.

"What's wrong, doctor?" Sinnett said, jovially, "Not used to hard work?"

"I'll confess," Jekyll replied, his face twisted in... Pain? "My upper body strength isn't as good as most of the lodgers here."

"Shouldn't have let them pressure you into helping Jasper."

"You know... I think you're right."

"I can walk, sir." Jasper protested. Sinnett glanced at Jekyll.

"You're the most injured here. Until we know how bad the damages are, it's not a good idea for you to move too much." Jekyll responded apologetically, "Head injuries can be a lot worse than they look."

"Unless they're bleeding." Sinnett pointed out, "Then they bleed so much that they _look_ worse than they are."

Jekyll sighed and they continued to carry Jasper out, the lodgers darting here and there as they evacuated or looked for stuff in the explosion.

Jasper's nose twitched and a coppery scent reached his sensitive nose that put him on edge.

"I smell blood, is someone injured?"

At that phrase, Sinnett paused, suddenly looking concerned.

"Depends how sensitive your nose is, Jasper." Came Jekyll's casual reply, "I scratched myself a little in the explosion."

Jasper sniffed again and, sure enough, the scent seemed to be coming from Jekyll.

He settled back but, as they left, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he smelt more than just a little cut.

But, then again, he wasn't used to his new werewolf senses. It would probably smell worse than it actually was.

That was what he told himself.

  
  


Rachel chewed them all out when the last of the lodgers were dragged from the wreckage.

It was a lot of "What on Earth were you thinking?!" and "One of you should have stopped them!"

Jekyll, as the leader, got it the worst. Particularly when Rachel found out the circumstances of the explosion.

See, Jekyll had come in, intending to tell them to stop or he would kick them out. The issue was, with Frankenstein, they had lost most of their respect for him. Like an idiot, Jekyll had desperately wanted to prove to them that he was one of them, that Frankenstein was wrong about him strangling their creativity.

So, still like an idiot, he had let them do what they wanted to do.

Then, _boom._

"Other than Jasper, are there any other injuries?"

Lodgers glanced between each other. A couple of words were exchanged.

The consensus was: "No, just Jasper."

"Actually," Jasper piped up, coughing up a little more smoke, "Jekyll was injured."

Rachel turned a hard stare to Jekyll who quickly raised his hands in surrender. "It's just a scratch. I'm certain other lodgers got little scratches as well – Nobody's claiming _they're_ injured!"

A long suffering sigh from Rachel, "I'm deal with Jasper first, then I'll take a look over your injury."

"But-"

"It could get infected. Jasper's the most urgent but," Her eyes drifted across the crowd, "Anyone else with scratches, even if they seem pretty small, should see me after. We have no clue what could be embedded in those scratches, after all."

"I think Jekyll's the most urgent, though. He should go first." Jasper protested. The scent of blood was strongest on Jekyll and it was continuing to make him uneasy.

"Jasper." Jekyll said softly, looking the werewolf in the eye, "It's admirable for you to put others over yourself like that but you could have a serious concussion. As Sinnett said, it's more difficult to tell with head injuries, therefore any head injury takes first priority." He paused thoughtfully, "I think the other lodgers should go before me, as well. I'm a doctor, after all, I should be able to treat my own injuries."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise you, Rachel. It's just a scratch."

She nodded and Jasper's protests were lost to "Jasper's just being selfless". As he was lead away to have his injuries looked over, all he could do was stare desperately after Jekyll.

The doctor was wincing, as if in pain.

  
  


The first thing Henry did after the incident was to head back to his office. Rachel would need medical supplies for the lodgers and it just so happened that he had plenty in his office for Hyde's constant bruises and scrapes.

First, however, he was going to take the risk of infection into account. After locking the door, he carefully stripped off his jacket and shirt.

Obviously, the injury was on his back so he couldn't see the damage. Unfortunately, it hurt too much to feel around to figure out how big it was using his hands so he simply cleaned the entirety of his back and wrapped bandages around the entire area, wrapping it several times to make sure he didn't miss any spots.

Embarrassingly, his torso was practically mummified in a textbook example of overkill, but it was necessary. After all, it wasn't like he knew exactly where it was. It couldn't have hit anywhere too close to his spine or he would have been paralysed which also meant it couldn't be that large but that was all he knew.

His heart told him it was too painful to be anything except large but the more logical part of him told him that, if it was serious, he would be paralysed or dead already.

Satisfied that it was fine for the time being, he headed to the medical room to help Rachel and Lavender treat the lodgers.

  
  


A lot of the lodgers wouldn't let Jekyll treat them.

They were a stubborn bunch, claiming that he wasn't a real scientist and, therefore, couldn't treat them. Henry rolled his eyes as he took out another roll of bandages. He practically had to pin them to the bed to treat them, his back protesting every time he did. The worst of them were sedated.

It was a lot of small scratches, not anything to worry over, but the occasional cut would contain tiny bits of shrapnel from the explosion and Jekyll would have to get out the tweezers. This was when the mule-like stubbornness of the lodgers became _really_ annoying. It was difficult to pick out the pieces as his patients shifted, deliberately messing up his attempts. On occasion, the piece would be pushed deeper in.

By the end of it, he was exhausted.

Rachel had only fared a little better. Obviously none of the lodgers held a particular grudge on her like they did to Jekyll but she still wasn't a scientist.

"Is that all of them?" She asked, the lodgers mingled together, chatting and laughing like the building hadn't been blown up recently.

A twinge of pain in his back caused him to hesitate.

He looked over Rachel's pale face and the way she struggled to stand.

"...Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

She blinked and looked up at him with frown. "Really? I thought we did everyone, who did we- Oh! Your injury!"

"Scratch." He corrected.

"Scratch. Surely we should do it today?"

"We're both tired. I've already washed and bandaged it so the only thing left would be shrapnel and I don't think either of us have enough energy to do that."

"But it could get infected."

"And in our states, trying to get anything out could just end up pushing it further in. Safer to leave it for now. Hopefully it won't get infected between now and tomorrow."

Rachel looked unconvinced.

"I'm a doctor, Rachel. You have to trust me to treat myself. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Fine. First thing tomorrow, though." She pointed a finger at him sharply, "First. Thing. The _moment_ the sun rises."

"Of course, of course."

"And if there are any changes between now and then – any weird colouration around the area or... Or..." Exasperated, she threw up her hands, "Or anything at all! You come _straight_ to me!"

"Geez, Rachel, it's a scratch."

She scowled at him. "There was an explosion. It's a miracle that most of the lodgers managed to get off as well as they did."

"How's Jasper doing, by the way?"

"Resting." There was some relief on her face, "Thankfully, he was right, it wasn't that bad."

Jekyll smiled. "I'm glad."

"You and me both. See you tomorrow morning?"

Henry nodded and the pair parted ways.

  
  


What worried Jekyll the most in the situation was appearing weak.

The lodgers already didn't respect him, if he showed weakness in front of them, who knew if he could ever regain their trust?

In his mind, he could already hear the mockery.

"All of us were injured, Jekyll, you're not special."

"It's just a scratch. What, have you never been hurt in your life?"

"Can't the _good_ doctor treat himself or is he not a good enough scientist for that?"

Without thinking, his fingers brushed the heavy padding under his shirt. God, it felt like an awful attempt. Obviously, better safe than sorry but it felt like an amateur's work.

He was supposed to be a leader and his authority was already being challenged. How could he complain about a tiny injury, knowing that? Not to mention, putting himself before anyone else wasn't what a leader would do. That would be burdening the people he was trying to lead.

That was what kept his head high and a confident stride in his step as he made his way through the society, ignoring the burning in his back and the heaviness in his limbs. Luckily, he had plenty of practice with his little facade and it barely slipped for even a moment.

Before he went to bed, he wanted to check every lodger just once more to make sure nobody had been missed (or, God forbid, one of them was undoing their bandages just to spite him).

Frankenstein was last. Technically, she should have been the first but Jekyll, although he would never admit it, was scared to face her.

She hadn't been involved in the explosion. For once, her odd choice of room had come in handy and she had missed it entirely. As he quickly found, she had slept through the whole thing.

"I heard about the explosion." She said smugly when he came in, "Having trouble controlling your lodgers, _doctor?"_

"...Frankenstein. I'm not in the mood for this. I just wanted to know if you're ok."

She didn't respond. She just cocked her head at him with an air of petty spite.

"Creature?" Henry turned to the only one there willing to answer him.

"She wasn't affected by the explosion, if that's what you're asking. I wouldn't say she's ok."

Jekyll nodded once. "That's all I needed to know. Good night, Frankenstein."

With that, he turned to leave but he was stopped when a voice called him back.

Confused, he turned around to look at the source of the voice. Frankenstein's smug look had slid off her face like snow off glass and, if he was crazy, he could almost call her look concerned.

"Jekyll, what's under your shirt?"

He looked down. He had hoped his layering of clothes would hide the heavy bandaging and, for the most part, it had worked. The misshapen padding wasn’t visible unless someone was looking for it.

He wasn’t certain why Frankenstein of all people had been the first to spot it.

"Nothing of concern. Now, if you don't mind-"

"Were you involved in the explosion?"

"Yes but I'm fine."

"There's blood on your jacket."

Taken off guard, he hesitated. He was sure he had washed everything thoroughly. On the other hand, it was a brown jacket, blood wouldn't exactly show up very well so it would make sense that he missed a spot.

"Must have come from one of the lodgers."

The look on Frankenstein's face felt completely out of place with her usual behaviour. A coil of paranoia dug itself into his stomach.

 _Weakness,_ something cruel hissed in his head, _She's noticed a weakness_ _–_ _Another method of questioning my authority_ _for her to exploit_ _._

Taking a deep breath, he made one more effort to distract her. "The lodgers are fine by the way."

"I'm not asking about them." She examined his face closely. "Dr Jekyll, what's under your shirt?"

"Nothing. Good night."

This time, he ignored her attempts to call him back. When he was alone in the hallway, he took a moment to tentatively brush his back with the tips of his fingers.

They came away bloody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine's making me bored. Who wants some good old fashioned whump, this time starring "The Prideful Stubbornness Of Hyde's That Has To Come From Somewhere"?


	2. Rock and Rubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll pushes himself further.  
> Since when was doing back-breaking work with a back injury a good idea?

Rachel slept in that morning. Clearly the events of the day prior had worn her out and Jekyll, up bright and early to check over damages once again, wasn't willing to wake her.

He hadn’t been able to sleep much that night. When he lay on his back, white hot pain coursed through him. When he lay on his side, the slightest shift would lance him with pain. When he lay on his front, he would wake to pain, finding that he had rolled over in his sleep.

It was safe to say, Jekyll hadn’t slept much that night but, on the other hand, that was nothing new.

In fact, most of the lodgers slept in that morning and the few who _were_ awake didn't help Jekyll who was clearing away the worst of the rubble.

It wasn't the first time he had cleared rubble from the society. In fact, it was only _recently_ that Moreau had blown a massive hole in the place. It was merely the first time that Henry was forced to work alone.

Also, the first time he had done so with such a burning feeling in his back.

He had undid the bandages to replace them that morning and, given a little more time to himself, tried to see the injury in the mirror. He couldn't quite get the right angle, however. The only indication that it existed at all was the dried blood on the padding.

Well, that proved it couldn't be large or he would be able to get a glimpse of it, at least. There was a lot of blood on the bandages but that wasn’t really an indication of size. Cleaner cuts tended to bleed more. It was also quite likely to have clotted by that point.

Knowing that it was a small injury eased a tight bundle of nerves in his gut that he hadn't even realized existed until that moment.

Of course he was being stupid. It wasn't a bad injury, he just couldn't handle pain that well.

It was that knowledge that he was overreacting that pushed him to put everything he had into clearing the rubble. The scratch on his back, in the end, wasn't as bad as he thought it was – He had already seen worse on some of the lodgers.

Luckett, who had been closest to the explosion, had been hiding a particularly nasty piece of shrapnel in his arm, for instance. Had Luckett thrown a fuss? No. Even when Jekyll had asked him to help with evacuation, he had done so without complaint.

Then there was Jasper who had hit the wall hard enough to nearly knock the kid out. He was almost certain that, if Jasper wasn't a werewolf, he would have been seriously concussed from the incident. Jasper had kept insisting that he could walk, even trying to get Rachel to look after Henry first.

Not a complaint was given by them and, therefore, what kind of leader would he be if he couldn't match the people he led?

Although, he really wished he had more upper body strength or, at least, a little help from the others. Some of the rocks and rubble he was moving were quite heavy.

When he tried to move particularly large pieces, it felt like a hot iron was being driven into his back and it would take all of his willpower to not cry out.

_“Wow, you really are pathetic.”_

Henry sighed and ignored the voice of his alter ego. Or maybe those were his own self-deprecating thoughts. It was difficult to tell sometimes.

He noticed a gaggle of lodgers at the other side of the room. They were watching him and giggling with each other. Great, he was being mocked on all fronts now. He gritted his teeth and forced more effort into his work, determined not to seem weak.

He picked up a largish rock. The weight was instantly too much for him and he toppled forward, hitting the ground with a shriek of protest from his back. Tears of pain shot to his eyes and he forced them away, blinking rapidly.

More laughter.

_“And a joke, apparently.”_

Jekyll eyed the lodgers. They were too far to hear him so, as he pushed himself back to his feet, he muttered under his breath to Hyde.

"Can't you leave me alone for five minutes?"

A tut. “ _I'm just saying. If I was in your place right now, I wouldn't be_ _ **half**_ _as pathetic.”_

"Sure thing, Hyde. When was the last time you were particularly hurt?"

_“I've been in more bar fights than you.”_

"Those are bruises. How often have you cut yourself?"

_“Pain is pain. Doesn't matter.”_

Jekyll could say it certainly wasn't the same. Bruises and hits were a throbbing pain. They softly protested when you pressed against the purple and brown spots and there was something strangely fun about pressing one's fingers into a bruise, feeling the memory of the hit under your skin. Jekyll would never admit to it but bruises were somewhat of a trophy to him.

 _I was in a fight,_ they said pridefully, _Look, look. The evidence is right there. Painted on the skin for all to see. Aren't they pretty?_

Of course, most of him was ashamed of them and would hide them – Nobody could know that the doctor had been in a fight – but they were still there to poke and prod like a kid with a stick poking a dead rat.

Hyde was certainly a lot more open with his bruises. Rachel was constantly being pestered with Hyde showing off some new bruise on his leg.

It was also a repeating incident that Hyde would try to show her a bruise somewhere inappropriate and she would hit him with a baking tray before he finished removing his shirt or his trousers. Occasionally that in itself would add a new bruise to the collection.

This was a different pain. It was sharp, it was continuous, it was _hot_. Every movement was pain.

"I think it's different."

 _“Well you've never been in control of the body when someone got a good hit to your face._ _You just dealt with the aftermath.”_

"Frankenstein."

Hyde scoffed. “ _A really sick, feeble, old woman who just woke up? Wow, how pathetic can you get?”_

Jekyll's ears heated up with shame. Hyde was right. Frankenstein's punch to the face had really hurt at the time but it wasn't that bad. Couldn’t have been, really.

In fact, his reaction to such a feeble hit was exactly why this cut couldn't be that bad. If he reacted that badly to a light hit to the face, a serious wound would be enough to knock him out entirely.

More laughter. He caught snatches of what was being said.

"He's really struggling, huh?"

"Well have you seen those arms of his? I'm surprised he's gotten _that_ far."

"Should one of us help out?"

"It's too early in the morning for that – I need coffee first. If Jekyll wants to break his back lifting rocks, it's not our business. I wouldn't be awake right now at all but I had this nasty cut on the hip and I usually sleep on my side."

"Really? I cut my arm and I slept on it just fine. Are you sure you're not overreacting?"

"Maybe mine's bigger than yours."

"Want to compare?"

Jekyll regretted listening in. He went back to rock moving and tried to ignore them.

"Henry?"

He looked up. Jasper was peering over him worriedly.

"Jasper! You shouldn't be awake this early, you should be resting."

"Me? Jekyll did you get treated yesterday? You still... Um..." Jasper hesitated, looking for the right words to say, "Sorry if this sounds offensive, you just... Reek of blood. It's even worse today than yesterday."

"Your sniffer's probably clogged up with less smoke and dust this morning. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." Jasper hesitated. "Wait, you didn't answer my questi- Ah!"

Jekyll misjudged the size of a rock and tried to lift it. With a yelp, he tumbled forward, dragged to the floor by it's weight. Jasper rushed to his aid, picking up the rock with ease, as though it weighed nothing. Jekyll, feeling the eyes of the lodgers on him from behind, felt his face go red with embarrassment.

"I, uh, don't think you should be working like this." Jasper stood up, holding the rock, "Not alone and not injured. It's not healthy."

"I'm not injured." Jekyll stood up uneasily. He tried to straighten his back and, once again, felt the jab of pain. He winced – something not missed by Jasper. The werewolf’s concerned look only deepened.

"But you _are_ alone." Jasper pressed. "Maybe it isn't my place to say but shouldn't you wait for other people to wake up to help you?"

Jekyll laughed and picked up a smaller rock, "I'm the leader of the society. If I'm not the first to start, I'm not really leading, am I?"

He began to walk over to the buckets he had been collecting rubble in.

"Really? I always thought leading was about telling other people what to do."

"Well you could do that but..." Jekyll looked over at the lodgers, "Well. I'm not respected right now. They would only respect me less if I went around ordering them about and not doing any of the work myself."

Jasper fell into a thoughtful silence as the rocks dropped into the buckets with a clatter. He was looking at Jekyll like he wanted to say more but was too nervous to say it.

"I'll help." Jasper said instead, at last.

"You don't have to. As I said, you should be resting."

"You _just_ said it wouldn't be right for you to order others around without following your own orders." Jasper said. There was a pause as what he said sank in. Then his face quickly reddened and he squeaked, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry! That came out so aggressively! I didn't mean it like that! I just- Um..."

Jekyll eyed up the werewolf for a moment then sighed. "I guess I could take a break and tackle this again later."

Jasper exhaled, sounding suspiciously relieved.

"I'll take you back to your room. You should be resting."

Leaving the rubble and tittering lodgers behind, Henry lead Jasper away.

  
  


Henry wasn't sure what to do with himself. He had promised Jasper that he would rest a moment but it didn't feel right. Between the rubble, the paperwork, the exhibition, the lodgers, Frankenstein, etc. etc. he just couldn't sit still. His mountains of responsibility loomed over him whenever he tried and his stomach would twist with guilt and anxiety.

He ended up settling on paperwork. It was the least intensive on his back and there weren't enough people awake to check up on their injuries.

Of course, he usually did paperwork with Lanyon and, so, he went to find his old friend.

Lanyon hadn't been involved in the explosion at all. He had been elsewhere at the time and, when he got back, he practically rushed Jekyll with questions about his health.

Had he been injured?

How much did the public know?

Was there any scandal around the explosion?

Jekyll answered the last two questions and systematically dodged his way around the first one through strategic half-truths and subject changes.

Lanyon, of course, knew first aid (He was a doctor too, after all) just like Henry and Rachel so he _could_ treat Jekyll's back.

Except, Jekyll didn't want him to. His mind was still solidly fixated on all the work ahead of them and he didn't want _any_ distractions. He could deal with his back when the workload looked a little more manageable but even the slightest wince would clue Lanyon in that something was off. Then it would be dealing with the back problem as the workload continued to pile up before them.

Of course not. It was ridiculous to deal with a grazed back given the circumstances.

"There's a lot of paperwork that needs going through, can you help me with it for a bit? Just until more of the lodgers are awake and we can start work on the damages."

Lanyon agreed although he looked at the mounds of paper with poorly hidden disgust.

So the two of them made a start.

  
  


The incident happened at around 10am.

Jekyll and Lanyon were working through taxes when there was a distant crash from somewhere in the building followed by yelling. The pair looked at each other before running for the source of the sound, Jekyll gritting his teeth through the protests from his back.

As it turned out, Archer had been dared to climb on a very large piece of rubble. The piece had ended up a lot more unstable than they had first anticipated – In fact, it was in several pieces when Henry and Robert arrived.

Archer had been buried under the rubble.

Jekyll cursed himself for taking a break like Jasper had told him to.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

He was in a society full of people with the trait of "Dangerous with science" in common. _Of course_ the dangerous stuff that he had just left lying around wouldn't be left alone. _Of course_ someone was injured. He hadn't even told them not to mess with it.

Someone was hurt and it was Jekyll's fault. Again.

He threw himself on the rubble, scrabbling with his fingers until they bled, dislodging rocks and throwing them back. The lodgers stared with horror.

"Well?!" Jekyll snapped, patience lost to the pain in his back, "For the love of God, _help!"_

That snapped them all out of it. The lodgers began to help and, to Jekyll's relief, they started to make some actual progress. Lanyon, not wanting to get involved in physical labour, went to get Rachel.

Archer was, thankfully, alive. He had inhaled a lot of dust and was coughing and spluttering terribly when they dragged him from the wreckage.

"Archer? Archer, are you ok?" Jekyll took in his appearance. His face was scratched up by numerous light cuts from the jagged rocks.

It was then that Rachel rushed out, clearly having only just woken up, Lanyon trailing close behind.

"I need you to look after Archer." Jekyll said, looking her in the eyes.

Rachel blinked, looking frightened. "But-"

She was clearly about to mention Jekyll's injury but all it took was one look at Archer to know that he was the top priority.

A couple of the lodgers helped carry Archer, still coughing, to the medical room.

Jekyll stayed behind. He turned to look at the remaining lodgers who were milling around quietly.

"Until it's cleared up, nobody's allowed to mess around with the wreckage, understand?"

There was some grumbling but, having seen what happened to Archer, there was no real complaining.

...Well.

There almost wasn't.

"You _should_ have made that rule earlier."

The statement rang out clearly, hard and accusatory. Everyone turned to the speaker.

Ito was picking her way around scattered shards of rock, fixing Jekyll with a hard look. She was clearly one of the people who had been sleeping, only woken by Archer's fall.

"You know how most of them are," She gestured at the crowds, "Why would you let them mess around in the site of an explosion?!"

"I..." Jekyll felt tired. He really hadn't gotten enough sleep that night. "I wasn't there. I didn't see."

It was a lame excuse and he knew it.

"Did you at least tell them to keep out?" Ito was tapping her foot impatiently.

He... He hadn't thought about it. There were so few people awake so there had been little point making the rule that morning and it had completely slipped his mind the day before...

And more rules meant more complaining. Some of the lodgers would break rules simply to spite Jekyll.

But, then again, if an accident happened anyway then maybe he should have said something.

No, she was right. Once again, it was his fault. He hadn't stopped the explosion from happening, he hadn't stopped the lodgers from playing in the danger zone.

What kind of leader was he?

Ito looked up at Henry’s weary face and silent guilt. She sighed and her tone softened a little. "Just try to remember next time, ok?"

Next time? What was she saying? Was she suggesting he wasn't a good enough leader to stop them? Was she saying this would happen again?

Ito had meant well by saying those things but, once she had turned and left, some of the lodgers fixated on what she had said. There were a few taunts as he himself turned and left. He didn't see who said each of those taunts – didn't even look up.

There were a couple of more sympathetic comments in the crowd as well but they were lost to Jekyll, his mind fixating on the mockery.

He deserved it, he decided. He had failed them.

He deserved what he got.

As he was left alone, Jekyll once again took a moment to touch his back. It was difficult to tell with the overwhelming amount of bandaging but it felt a little swollen and hot.

It was getting infected. Henry simply sighed. He would just have to clean it again later – Archer was top priority at that time and he wasn't risking Archer just so his own little scratch could be treated.

Jekyll took a breath, lifted his head and strode purposefully, finding Lanyon waiting for him.

“That was exciting, huh?” Lanyon’s voice didn’t really convey excitement. “So… Paperwork?”

Jekyll’s mind was fixed on his back, though. It would need cleaning, preferably sooner rather than later. “You can get started without me. I have something I need to do first.”

Robert glanced at where Archer had fallen and nodded, seemingly assuming that Jekyll was going to deal with the aftermath of that. Then Lanyon was gone.

He felt kind of light headed.

Must be the dust, he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I read the title of this fic, my mind sings You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi and I think I chose the wrong title for this fic.
> 
> Anyway, things aren't going to go great next chapter for Dr Jekyll.  
> It's kind of weird because I could use a bit of what I learnt in my First Aid course at college (Which got cut off part-way through due to quarantine) in ways that it wasn't intended to be used for: Stabbing Dr Jekyll.  
> During our first lesson, we had to explain our reasons for taking first aid. I don't think "I want to write a fanfiction where I stab a character from a classic Victorian novella with a metal pipe" is a legitimate reason.  
> And yet, due to quarantine, this'll probably be the only thing I get to use it for in a long while.


	3. Down on Hands and Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll pushes himself too far.

It was while Rachel looked after Archer that Jekyll chose to chug half a bottle of wine as an ill-advised painkiller and replace his bandages again.

He was slightly clumsy with the wrappings which, he assumed, was partially due to the alcohol. They stuck to his back, glued on by… Well, nothing pleasing to think about. Although the first couple of layers came off with ease, the more layers that were undone and the closer he got to the cut in question, the more they stuck together.

The bandages were a lot bloodier this time. It was clear that his work moving the rubble hadn't done any good for his back. There was also the telltale yellow blotches of pus that told him it was definitely infected. Well, if his bandages had been bad enough to leak then it made sense that he had missed the cut while trying to clean it.

He was reluctant to try cleaning the woun- Scratch. The scratch. He already knew how badly it would sting to touch it with soap but he also knew it was necessary.

Rachel would give him an earful if he didn't take care of it and he couldn't risk it getting much worse. Depending on how bad the infection was, even a mild injury could cause some pretty nasty problems and he was too busy to deal with those problems.

It was wimpy, he knew, but Jekyll used an old belt of his to bite down on while he grabbed the soap and sponge and filled up a large basin with warm water. He had never had to bite down on anything before but it was supposed to distract a patient from the pain and it would stop him from grinding his teeth together or biting his tongue.

 _Really?_ Hyde stared disbelievingly at the belt in Jekyll's mouth from his reflection in the glass cabinets, _And I thought the parcel wrapping was overkill._

"Well you're the only one here to judge me."

_Oh I'm judging you heavily, Jekyll._

Jekyll rolled his eyes and dipped the sponge into the warm water. He took a long deep breath through his nose and pressed the sponge against his back.

The infection already made the process so much worse. His entire back felt like hundreds of tiny, long needles were being jabbed into him, or like he was being bitten or stung by hundreds of little insects. With long stingers or large mandibles.

The pained groan that he made was humiliating and he could feel Hyde's judgemental stare only get worse. His teeth dug hard into the leather with helped ease the pain a little but not as much as he had hoped.

He couldn't rub the sponge – Couldn't even bring himself to – so he settled on dabbing the wound with the wet soapy sponge.

It was an agonising process and one that reminded him every second of how weak and stupid he was being.

The burning on his back continued, a nasty throbbing feeling settling under all the heat and needles.

He was thankful when he was finally finished. He couldn't dump the bloody sponge back into the basin fast enough. He dabbed it using a wad of bandages instead of a normal towel to prevent any loose fluff getting into the scratch before binding the scratch back up with the same level of hefty padding as before.

Henry's eyes lingered on the water in the basin and, tragically, all over the floor. It was a watery red and yellow colour from blood. In fact, he _would_ say that the colouration was a little too deep and it looked like he had lost quite a lot of blood but that was ridiculous.

It was just the dilution from the water increasing the volume of visible fluid. It looked like more than there actually was.

Besides, it _always_ looked like more blood than there actually was. Nosebleeds, for example, always looked like a murder scene.

After a particularly bad bar fight (Hyde's fight, obviously) Jekyll had gotten a nosebleed in the bath. His entire body had been splattered red and, looking at all the blood he knew came from his own body, he had felt a little faint.

Except it wasn't as bad as it looked, it just looked like a lot because it went absolutely everywhere.

He took a deep breath through his nose. It would be best to clean up the murder scene his office had become. People could get the wrong idea if they saw it and he would rather not let it dry there.

As he stood up, he was struck by a moment of light-headedness. Henry stumbled a little, his hand instinctively going to his head. The room seemed to move strangely beneath him and before his eyes.

Odd. Must have been the alcohol.

He drank so much as Hyde that he thought he would know his limits (Particularly since Hyde was so much shorter that he got drunk faster) but it seemed not.

Knowing that he was alone, he was confident enough to move his way across the room cautiously, keeping his hands on the walls or furniture to keep him stable and prevent him from tripping up. He stumbled a couple of times but he always managed to right himself again. Hyde tsked disapprovingly but Jekyll tuned him out.

Unfortunately, Jekyll didn't keep a mop in his room so he would have to leave his safe area to get what he needed. Which meant trying not to trip or sway too much.

He took one last moment to lean against the wall, taking deep breaths in a last ditch attempt to alleviate some of his dizziness, before straightening up and opening the door.

Henry didn't do as well as he would have liked, making his way about. He found himself stopping frequently whenever he was alone to sit down or lean heavily against a wall, listening to his own shallow breathing. He deeply regretted drinking all that wine, his stomach roiling in a way that made him think he was going to be sick.

At one point, Doddle passed him while he was leaning against the wall. The confectionist cocked an eyebrow and pleasantly inquired about Jekyll's health.

"It's fine, Doddle. Just ate something that didn't agree with me. Thank you for the concern, though."

That was the most he got. The lodgers mostly had better things to be thinking about. Archer's tumble was a particular conversation topic that people couldn't shut up about and, if Jekyll was feeling better, he would feel guilty every time it got brought up.

As it was, he was a little more focused on not throwing up.

He pushed through a set of doors and paused, bewildered.

It appeared he had run a little into autopilot mode because he certainly hadn't found a mop.

Unless, of course, one was to say that Frankenstein's hair was long and messy enough to be called a mop.

Nope. Jekyll had found his way to Frankenstein's room by mistake and now he was staring, cheeks hot, into the mad scientist's puzzled and seemingly judgemental look.

She put down the book she had been reading (A book on faraway places, Jekyll numbly noted) and frowned up at him.

"Dr Jekyll?"

"Sorry." He winced when he heard his own voice. He had slurred a little and he was certain by the way her eyebrows shot up that it hadn't been missed by his patient. "Wrong room."

He turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Jekyll usually wouldn't have waited but he was so desperate for an excuse to stop for a second and lean against the door frame that he decided to stop and look over at her.

"You're incredibly pale."

He gave her a long look. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

He was glad to note that his voice wasn't as slurred this time.

"You don't look well." She paused before speaking slowly, almost cautiously, "...You... You should sit down for a second."

Jekyll bit his lip, instantly sensing a trap. What did she want?

"I can't." He straightened up again, glad for the short break, "Too busy, I'm afraid. _Thank you_ for the offer though."

His thank you had a little more edge to it than he had intended but he felt like he had gotten his feelings on the matter across.

_Whatever you're planning, I'll be taking no part in it._

"Jekyll, I really think-"

"I _said_ I'm busy."

And he was gone.

Frankenstein, watching him leave, bit her lip nervously. That unfocused look in his eye combined with the pallor of his skin and the explosion the day before couldn't mean anything good. Sure, she didn't like the guy but there was a difference between dislike and wanting someone dead.

"Creature. Get Lavender." She said at last. "Tell her that Dr Jekyll needs medical treatment. And, if I know my medical knowledge – which I do – it's urgent."

  
  


Jekyll was stopped before the janitors closet (They didn't have a janitor, it was just where the mops were kept) by a gaggle of lodgers. They weren't going out of their way to stop him or anything, they just happened to be hanging out right in front of the closet and, to get to the mops, Jekyll would have to cut straight through the group.

He groaned internally. Fantastic. Just after avoiding Frankenstein, too.

Henry took a deep breath to ready himself and strode up to the group.

"Excuse me, can I just squeeze past a sec?" He asked pleasantly.

He was given some nasty looks but they moved away without much of a fight. Thank God.

He opened the closet and began to sort through for a mop, a hand fixed to the door frame to stop him swaying as the closet shifted beneath him. He tried to make it look casual though. They couldn't know he was drunk – What would they think of _that?_

"Is Archer ok?"

Jekyll looked up at the lodger who had spoken. Mr Bird had a worried look in his eyes, watching Jekyll expectantly.

"I... I don't know. I sure hope so."

That clearly wasn't the answer Bird had been hoping for. He seemed to deflate a little, the concern painted clearly on his face. Jekyll sighed.

"I'm sure he'll be alright. Archer's tough."

A snort. Henry's eyes flickered to the source. Griffin was looking even more exhausted than usual and, clearly, in a much fouler mood. Most of the lodgers had become a lot more solemn in the wake of the accident. Griffin, however, was one of the lodgers who had become moodier instead and, most likely, hadn't been able to sleep that night. Not that Griffin slept much anyway.

"What kind of answer is that? I thought the _great_ _doctor_ Jekyll would be able to treat him."

"Rachel is treating him at the moment."

"And why aren't you there? You're the doctor."

 _Because I also have an injury,_ Jekyll wanted to say. _Because it's infected and needs dealing with._

But, of course, he couldn't say that. To say that would sound weak. To say that would raise questions on just how bad that 'injury' was, at which point Jekyll would have to show it and they would find out that it wasn't that bad and he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

Instead, he said, "The rubble needs dealing with to prevent any further incidents."

"What about Archer?" Bird's voice wasn't accusatory, it was simply concerned for a friend. To Jekyll's mind however, it was an accusation. "Shouldn't he be top priority?"

Jekyll hesitated, hand gripping the mop.

He clearly took too long answering because he heard Griffin practically crow with delight.

"What's the matter? _Can't_ treat him just like you _can't_ treat Frankenstein?"

Jekyll straightened, mop in hand, and turned to the small group. A couple of them were muttering to each other, sneaking looks at Jekyll and Griffin.

His gut clenched.

"Preventing any more injuries is also a priority. Rachel can deal with Archer while I deal with the danger."

"But it makes more sense for the doctor to be treating the patient, right?"

Jekyll couldn't meet Griffin's eye. He felt like he was going to throw up, his stomach hurt, he was tired, his head hurt and, most of all, he just didn't want to be in that situation at that moment.

He steadied himself, looked Griffin in the eye and opened his mouth to refute the argument.

That was when a wave of nausea hit him and he unceremoniously threw up.

Luckily, he just managed to miss hitting anyone. Jekyll stood there, bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily for several seconds as a dark static began to encroach on his vision.

His legs buckled beneath him and he fell forward, the yells of alarm and horror sounding like they came from underwater.

He lay there, just trying to breath and staring up through hazy, half-lidded eyes.

Just before he lost consciousness, he saw Lavender running towards him, a panicked look on her face and a first aid kit in hand.

The last thing he heard was,

"Oh God, is that blood?"

  
  


Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr Jekyll is not being the best doctor in this fic to be honest.  
> On the other hand, all the doctoring is being written by someone who took one first aid course that got cut off early so doctoring isn't going to be the best. There was a reason I tagged this "Medical inaccuracies" after all.  
> But, hey, I know CPR and the recovery position. Yay!  
> And the symptoms of hypovolemic shock.


	4. It's Not As Bad As It Looks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People start taking notice.

Lavender didn't want to move Jekyll too much – Not until she knew exactly what was wrong.

The lodgers gathered around were in different states of shock, watching their unconscious leader with unmasked horror.

Jekyll was sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled in a rag-doll type of way. The instantly concerning thing to see was the puddle of blood on the floor that Jekyll had thrown up. It was, thankfully, not as much blood as Frankenstein had been spewing over the past few days but it certainly wasn't healthy by a long shot.

Internal bleeding. That was a symptom of internal bleeding.

She ignored the flitting of fear in her chest and began to shift him into the recovery position. The first thing she noticed as she touched Jekyll was that there was something under his shirt. She paused in her action and, with the slow movements of one fearful of what they would find, lifted his shirt and jacket.

Bandages. A lot of them, tied quite haphazardly. She would almost have berated him for the terrible job but, looking at his clammy, pale skin, it was quite clear that he was suffering blood loss. She was surprised he could put them on particularly well at all.

...There sure were a lot of them. It was difficult to breathe looking at all of them, wound around him again and again like he had tried to make a new vest out of nothing but medical supplies. It didn't bode well.

She carefully began to unwind them, layer after layer unravelling. It took way too long before she finally saw skin. She swallowed nervously and unravelled the last layer and found...

...Nothing..?

To her surprise, the skin was unblemished. She couldn't see where the injury in question was.

She frowned, peering at his body (Ignoring how skinny he was. Ignoring how malnourished he looked. Ignoring the way his ribs were clearly visible in a very unhealthy way. One problem at a time.) in search for the illusive wound.

Finally, she turned him over and looked at his back.

Ok, yeah. That was it.

It wasn't a large cut. In fact, she wouldn't really call it a cut at all. It was more like there was just a hole about two fingers in diameter. The edges were ragged, swollen and yellow with pus.

It wasn't large but it was deep, she could tell that for certain. It was like he had been stabbed.

Well, not _'like'_ he had been stabbed. He had _definitely_ been stabbed.

He was potentially, most likely, bleeding internally.

Her mind flicked back to seeing Jekyll shifting rubble in the early hours of the morning. She was met by an image of him struggling with large rocks and debris. An image of him looking pained – Something reasoned off as him being unadapted at hard labour.

Then she heard Jasper's protests in her head. Jekyll had smelled of blood. He had smelled strongly of blood, according to Jasper.

But surely he had been treated. Obviously, Jekyll couldn't treat such a wound by himself – It was on his back, after all – so wouldn't Rachel have treated him? With an injury like this, Jekyll should have _at least_ been treated right after Jasper.

Except, Jekyll insisted that they didn't. Jekyll had insisted that he go last.

So, was it possible that he had dropped off the radar entirely? Was it possible that nobody had ever gotten around to treating him?

Shouldn't he have thrown a fuss then? It would clearly be painful. He would have complained or winced or at least brought it up. Right?

She pulled out a gauze bandage from the first aid kit. It wasn't perfect but she would at least need to stem the bleeding before she went any further.

Jekyll was prideful, she concluded as she bandaged up the wound. She hadn't considered he would go so far as to cover up a potentially fatal injury but it was the only thing that seemed to make sense.

"Is... Is he ok?" Bird ventured cautiously.

She looked up at the group.

Only a short while ago, she had been helping carry supplies to Rachel when Creature had come running at her. (Short note: Having a massive green man run at you from out of the dark at top speeds is quite a... Surprising situation. Which is to say, she nearly screamed.)

She had told her that Frankenstein had sent him. Jekyll needed medical help and it was _very_ urgent.

Her next question had been, "Where is he?" which had been followed by Creature by a non-committal shrug.

Lavender had a lot of questions and swear words for that one. She decided, instead, to start trying to track Jekyll down. If it was urgent, she didn't have time to sit around and ask questions.

It's not exactly helpful to be told someone needs urgent medical attention if nobody knows where said person is.

On the bright side, the cries of horror and alarm ended up being a pretty good indicator.

Now here she was, looking at a literal hole in their leader's back going straight between his ribs. Also not a great sign. Almost certain internal bleeding and a worryingly high chance of organ damage.

 _Was he ok?_ She would have liked to look at Bird, give him a reassuring smile and say yes but the situation didn’t exactly look great.

Though, he _had_ managed to go a full day without anyone noticing. If it had taken him that long to faint, even on top of how much he had been doing, then, hopefully, it meant they could fix it before it became fatal.

The buzz of talk began to build up.

"...Not entirely certain I like that silence..."

"Is... Is Jekyll dying..?"

“But he was fine this morning, wasn’t he?”

"He's not already dead is he?"

_"Dead?!"_

"He's not dead!" Lavender cut in quickly before the others could start panicking too much. "I think... I think he'll be ok."

"What's wrong with him?" Bird pressed.

Lavender responded by gesturing at the hole that she hadn't quite managed to fully cover up yet. Everybody's faces paled.

"...How deep is that?"

"...Deep." Griffin answered. He had, surprisingly, been the quietest during all of this. Even the way he spoke was quiet and strangely respectful for him. "...Are you sure he's going to survive? Isn't...” A hesitant pause, “...Isn't the heart on that side of the body..?"

Another explosion of panic. A clamour as lodgers argued which side of the body the heart was on and whether it was, specifically, at that location. Followed by an argument on whether or not Jekyll was going to die. This somehow lead on to _another_ argument on whether or not his stuff would go to Lanyon when he died which, she felt, was a little off topic.

"Please be quiet." Lavender spoke up and was glad to see everyone fall to silence again.

Now that she was the one dealing with this, she suddenly had a lot of sympathy for Jekyll.

She wished he was there… Well, consciously there. He would be able to say that everything would be ok and he would say it with that unwavering confidence of his that denied any sort of dispute. Things were fine and Jekyll refused to take any other answer.

"I think if it went through his heart, he would be dead already.” She continued, cautiously, aware that the wrong word could cause panic, “It either missed the heart or it's not deep enough to pierce it... I hope."

She checked the throat for any blockages and tilted his head upwards. He seemed to be breathing fine, thankfully.

"Can I get some help carrying him to Rachel?"

A moment of the others glancing at one another, waiting for someone to volunteer.

"I'll help." Griffin said unexpectedly.

Lavender considered it strange for him but, looking at the dark circles under his eyes, she assumed he had lost so much sleep that he had become delirious.

Fine. Whatever worked. She had bigger things to worry about.

"Rachel's still looking after Archer." Bird piped up, shifting uneasily, "She can't look after both of them simultaneously."

Lavender bit her lip. "...We'll... Take him there anyway. Maybe she'll know what to do."

  
  


Jekyll's head felt foggy. His entire body felt heavy and he was quite certain that he wouldn't be able to move whether he wanted to or not.

Noises reached him faintly. He thought it sounded like people talking but the sounds in question were a burble. He couldn't pick out words or phrases that he recognized in the chatter, just the excited and worried tone of it.

Maybe he recognized some of the people who were talking as well but he wasn't quite certain.

Rachel, perhaps? There was a female voice.

No, it was slightly too deep to be Rachel.

"He can stay in my room."

...At least, that's what he _thought_ was being said.

"I don't think that's-"

A higher female voice. Probably Rachel.

"You're too busy with Archer for..." The voices drifted to a burble again for a few moments. "...can watch him."

"But..."

"Two birds with one stone. I can..." A moment of white noise, "...and he'll alert you if his condition changes..."

"Henry should stay with me. He's the worst right now."

"You've already started on Archer. Might as well finish him."

"...Why do you care?"

"Hm..?"

Another wash of white noise. His grip on his consciousness was slipping but he strained his ears to listen.

"You've never cared about Doctor Jay up until this point. What do you have to gain?"

A moment of nothingness.

Jekyll thought for a delirious second that he had lost consciousness. Then he realized that it was just that nobody was talking.

"...Are you going to trust me or would you rather put him in the care of one of the injured lodgers?"

"Lanyon could look after Jekyll."

A different voice. Lanyon's.

"...As much as I hate to say it. I don't have a room in the society that Jekyll and I could stay in and I would rather not take him home knowing we have more medical supplies and doctors here. We'll have to share a room with someone unless we're keeping Jekyll in an office or something." A moment. "... _Although_ I would rather Jekyll stayed in any room besides _hers_."

Another voice. One of the lodgers, he believed but he would struggle to name them at that point. "Um... I think a lot of the rooms are filled with dangerous science experiments or are too close to where the explosion happened. Her room is the only safe option."

"Then we keep him in an office."

"Lanyon, be logical here-!"

Jekyll sighed, this was quickly devolving into a fight and he didn't really have the energy to listen to people fight. He let darkness overtake him again and he lost consciousness yet again.

  
  


The next time Jekyll awoke, he was a little more energetic. And by energetic, one would mean he was able to open his eyes.

It wasn't exactly acrobatics but it felt like it to his sluggish body.

The light was piercing and he immediately shut his eyes again, regretting his decision.

"You've been nothing but trouble since you got here! Maybe if you hadn't spent _all_ your conscious bloody hours telling the lodgers to be dangerous twits, _half the building wouldn't have blown up_ and Jekyll wouldn't be injured and potentially _dying!"_

Ok. He was regretting waking up. Was it possible to fall unconscious on command? That had been useful earlier... Although he wasn't sure how _much_ earlier... How was Archer doing at that moment?

...What _had_ happened anyway? He vaguely remembered talking about Archer with... Someone... And then...

...Then..?

It was no good. He just didn't know what was going on.

He was in a bed, not passed out at his desk again, and he was pretty certain that was Lanyon's voice.

Although... He rewound back over what Lanyon had been yelling. Potentially dying? That didn't sound right.

Maybe he had misheard. He must have. Lanyon hadn't said Jekyll, he must have said Archer.

...Who was he talking to?

The replying voice came back a little muffled and Jekyll determined that they were facing away from him. He strained to hear what was being said but quickly determined that his interpretation of "Something, something, macaroni." probably wasn't what had actually been said.

"Oh you are _not_ sorry! I don't know what you have to gain from keeping Henry here but, whatever you're planning, I won't allow it! You understand?! Henry's my friend and I'm not letting him get ruined by the likes of you!"

A silence fell and it seemed that the argument had ended.

"I'm going to get new bandages." Lanyon said at last, "I think those ones are leaking again."

No reply from the mystery other person. He heard someone stand, a door creak open and a door creak shut. More silence.

It was muffled but he was certain he heard a long sigh followed by some shifting.

In the quiet, Jekyll tried again to open his eyes. He blinked and winced a lot in the bright light but, steadily, the drift of dust floating about in the light came into view. Then he saw wood, glasses and vials full of colourful liquid, piles of stained bandages, a bucket... And a person.

They were large and imposing over him but that could just be his angle. Actually, there were two rather imposing people, one sat on a bed and one, far larger, towering over both of them.

Henry swallowed nervously.

The one on the bed turned to look at him and he felt his entire body go cold.

Staring at him, a look of faint surprise on her face, was Frankenstein.

For some stupid reason, his first instinct was to shut his eyes and go perfectly still as though she were some predator that could only see a movement. Or maybe he could trick her into believing he was asleep?

"Dr Jekyll?"

No. Nobody's home, go away.

"Jekyll, I know you're awake."

No, I'm not.

"Jekyll." Her voice was soft and his body tensed, waiting with bated breath for some insult or mockery. "How are you feeling?"

"...I'm not awake, go away."

His words sounded... Strange to him.

Slurred, that was the term. Odd. He wasn't drunk (Well, he didn't think he was drunk) and neither did he feel hungover.

"Dr Jekyll." She insisted with grating gentleness. It rubbed him the wrong way and he felt himself becoming quickly angry.

"Leave... Me alone..."

Still slurred and, this time, a little faint. He had injected as much venom as he could into those words but they still came out humiliatingly weak… Had she done something to him?

"Henry-"

"Where's Archer..? Is he ok..?"

"Rachel's looking after him."

"...I... I should be helping..." Jekyll tried to move but his body felt distant from him. It took a lot of effort to even move a leg and then he felt Frankenstein place a hand on his moving leg, with infuriating ease, preventing his movement. He forced his eyes open to give Frankenstein a pointed, if rather weary, glare. "Archer needs my help... I'm the doctor here... I should... I should be..."

"Jekyll are you aware you're injured?"

"Scratch."

"What?"

"I have... A scratch... Not injured..."

Frankenstein looked at him almost disbelieving for several long moments of blissful silence. Thank God, she had shut up. Maybe now she would let him leave.

"Dr Henry Jekyll. You do not have a 'scratch' - There is a literal hole in your back. You're suffering from internal bleeding and hypovolemic shock and, if you don't lay down and rest, you could kill yourself."

Jekyll's brain processed her words sluggishly. Of course he recognized the words but... He wasn't suffering hypovolemic shock – He hadn't lost enough blood for that. It was a scratch. It was a scratch. Not a hole. Couldn't be. He would know if there was a hole in his back so why was she lying?

...What was she trying at? What did she want? What had she done to him?

Another flare of weak anger.

"...Archer is injured. Badly. And you... You're going to... To keep me here and stop me from helping... Out of what..? Spite? Are you really... Spiteful enough... To let Archer possibly die... Just to... To screw me... Over..?"

It would have been a much better speech if he didn't keep forgetting what he was saying halfway through and if his voice was a little less weak.

"...Is that what you think of me?" Frankenstein said, quietly. She stared at his face for a long time. "You're a doctor, how are you not noticing your own symptoms?"

Jekyll blinked once, slowly.

"Slurred speech, confusion," She listed off the symptoms on her fingers, "Irritability, weakness, pale skin, sweating... Go ahead, tell me what else you're feeling."

His hatred of her only boiled further. His words didn't seem to have made a single graze to her demeanour. She wasn't angry at him, there wasn't even a hint of anger or distress, just that continuing soft voice like he was... Like he was...

What was he thinking of again?

"I feel a little... Light-headed... Is all..."

"Heart rate?"

Rapid. It fluttered in his chest like a cage full of butterflies, weak but quick.

"...Normal..."

She pressed a finger to his neck as he writhed weakly, trying to pull away from her.

"If that's ‘normal’ for you, I think you have a health condition." She sat back as he feebly swatted her arm away. "Look, the only reason you're not currently in the hospital is, supposedly, it would be bad for the society's reputation if there were any serious injuries from the explosion." Frankenstein snorted, "Like a hospital is needed anyway. Who would want to go to some stupid doctor when you have an entire building full of real scientists who actually know what they're doing?"

"...I thought you hated the society..?"

A moment of silence. "I hate you."

"Of course." Jekyll paused for a second. Then, "...I'm not injured."

"If you weren't clearly ill, I would say you're being stubborn."

"Takes one to know one."

"...What does that mean?"

"I'm not ill." Jekyll insisted, "You, however, puked up blood and, yet, you insist you're fine."

"I am. Besides, you did as well."

He didn't recall doing that. "...No, I didn't."

"I've looked after myself for years, I know when I'm sick and I can say that I can treat myself."

"Not unconscious, you can't."

A moment of silence between them. Jekyll was smug to see he had clearly made an impact because she finally looked a little frustrated with him.

He smiled and shut his eyes again.

...Wait, wasn't he supposed to be doing something at that moment?

Unfortunately, just as he had that thought, his consciousness began to slip again.

There was the sound of a door opening followed by, "I got the bandages."

Then he blacked out again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought quarantine would stop me procrastinating writing so much but apparently I write slower in quarantine because I'm not using writing to procrastinate school work.  
> Dammit.  
> I also smacked into writer's block during this chapter so that didn't help either.


	5. Your Own Worst Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll and Lanyon have a talk which isn't made easy by Jekyll.  
> It goes in strange directions.

With everything that had happened lately and the lodgers already on edge, the news about Dr Jekyll spread like wildfire and easily rivalled the news about Archer despite Lanyon and Rachel's best efforts.

Gossip spread at the speed of sound in the society on any day of the week and too many people had seen Jekyll faint to just cover it up which meant it was only a matter of time before the lodgers visited Jekyll.

Lanyon had done his best to keep them out but the lodgers were insistent... And knew how to pick locks. Which was how, on a dreary morning, a large group of lodgers slipped into Jekyll and Frankenstein’s room.

Jasper didn't really like the idea of visiting Jekyll without permission but all the other lodgers were already crowding around and he hadn't stopped worrying about Jekyll since the explosion. Jasper was quite certain that he wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep until he had seen Jekyll at least once so he hung at the back of the crowd.

It was difficult to see the doctor from the back but he could smell the blood. It was, thankfully, weaker than it had been before but that could have just been the overwhelming smell of chemicals and medical supplies in the air – Not to mention the scent of Frankenstein's own illness which hung heavy in the air.

Through the crowds and murmuring, through a lot of jumping and shifting, Jasper finally managed to catch a glimpse of Jekyll's face.

It was a strange thing to see. When he had met the doctor, he had been charming, full of energy and life. As time had gone by, he had watched that face pale, seen the sparkle go out of his eyes to be replaced by dull exhaustion and a rather worrying twitchy demeanour like he was constantly fretting over something.

Jasper had been surprised when nobody else seemed to notice the change. He wasn't sure if it was normal for Henry or if he simply didn't spend enough time with others for such a change to be noted.

Unfortunately, Jasper just hadn't known what to do about it. He didn't want to pry and he was too nervous of the others to bring it up with them.

Now, Jekyll was laid on a bed. His pale skin had gone almost completely white and shone with a layer of sweat, the lips a slight shade of blue. His eyes fluttered with uneasy sleep. His cheeks were hollow and dark circles ringed his eyes. It was an uncomfortable and downright terrifying change and Jasper was beginning to regret coming.

The other lodgers seemed equally, if not more frightened by the change. He supposed, if they hadn't seen his slow decline in health, then this would be all the more startling. As far as they were aware, Jekyll had been fine and enthusiastic just a day ago.

Ito was the first to make any kind of move. The alchemist approached the bed slowly and, carefully, checked his pulse. Her face didn't betray too much but her hands shook just slightly enough to guess how she was feeling.

"It's never reassuring when someone has to check a guy's pulse." Helsby piped up jokingly. Nobody laughed except Helsby himself whose laugh was pretty half-hearted.

"Yeah, sorry." Ito replied distractedly, "He just..."

"Looks a little like a corpse?"

"I was going to say he lost a lot of blood so his heart rate should be a good indication of how bad it is. The faster and weaker his heart rate, the more blood he's lost."

"...And..?"

"Just as bad as it looks."

A long pause.

Then Luckett spoke up, his voice faint, "Will he... Make it..?"

"I'm more of an expert on chemicals than the human body." Ito's brow furrowed a little as she straightened up and stepped away from Jekyll. "I don't actually know."

"He'll survive."

Everyone looked over at the rather surprising source of the voice.

Griffin was closely examining Jekyll's face. He honestly didn't look much better than Jekyll with the bags under his eyes and pale skin but, for Griffin, that wasn't anything new. The clearest difference between them was that Griffin was awake enough to look irritated.

"Trust me, I've dealt with enough live animals. Jekyll will make it, he just needs rest and medical care."

"Speaking of rest," Helsby gave Griffin a long look, "When was the last time _you_ slept?"

Griffin scowled at Helsby.

"I didn't even know you cared about Dr Jekyll." Helsby pressed further, trying to fill the nervous quiet.

The scowl hardened into a full glare and Helsby fell awkwardly silent.

"Is there anything we _could_ be doing?" Bird continued. "To help, I mean."

"The rest of the rubble should be cleared. This time, _without_ climbing on it, _please_." Ito angled a sharp look at the crowds and everyone involved in Archer's incident shifted uneasily.

"Would cold towels help? Does Jekyll have a fever?"

"Wouldn't it be better to keep him warm?"

"Blankets then?"

"If he's sweating, isn't he overheating?"

"I believe, if someone's in shock, you're supposed to keep them warm."

"Is that the same for hypovolemic shock?"

"...Is there a difference?"

"I don't know. I think there is."

Ito sighed long and hard. "Get blankets."

  
  


Creature was always there, keeping an eye on Frankenstein and Jekyll. He didn't really do much but he would alert someone if either of their conditions worsened. He didn't do anything when the lodgers came in and out, checking up on Jekyll. If Lanyon was in the room at the time, which he often was, he would shoo the lodgers out.

When he wasn't in the room, he would often come back to find new bandages, blankets and food or water left by the nosy lodgers. Occasionally there would be a gift that was clearly less thought out like a book which Lanyon was sure Jekyll would appreciate – If he was actually awake long enough to read.

He still didn't trust the lodgers around Jekyll. Good intentions or not, the society was a box of fireworks and a dangerously close lit match. On a stack of very flammable hay. He didn't even think they had good intentions at all. He was quite certain that, like Frankenstein, they were trying something.

Frankenstein was the worst of the bunch because he couldn't even be rid of her. It _was_ her room so there wasn't much he could do other than keep a very close eye on her.

On more than one occasion, he walked in to find her adjusting his blankets or checking his temperature. He even once caught her chatting to an unconscious Jekyll, although he never knew what about because she clammed up about it the moment he entered. Whenever he caught her doing such things, she would immediately disappear to her side of the room and refuse to talk which, to Lanyon, seemed suspicious.

If it was anyone else, it would seem caring and almost motherly.

Frankenstein, however, was far from a mother – Creature could attest to that – which raised the question: "What was her goal?"

One thing was sure, the moment Archer was well enough, he was moving Jekyll straight to the medical room and locking all the doors to anyone who wasn't Rachel.

Robert sat beside his friend and watched the doctor closely. His skin was still cold and clammy but a bit of colour seemed to have come back to his cheeks and the horrific blueish tint to his lips had faded. He was recovering. Slowly, but it _was_ happening.

Frankenstein was unconscious and Creature had left to wander for a bit while Lanyon kept watch. It seemed even scientific abominations got bored now and then.

Robert stared at his friend for a few moments in dull silence. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel. For a while now, he had been prepared for _Hyde_ doing something horrific to Jekyll. A murder attempt, perhaps? Or blackmail?

He hadn’t been prepared for Jekyll getting injured by _accident_. He had kept a close eye on Jekyll after the explosion, of course, but he had trusted Henry when he said he was fine. He had attributed his pale face to stress, his occasional strange statements to sleep loss.

Now, sat next to a nearly fatally injured friend, he cursed himself for being a gullible idiot and, with half-hearted venom, cursed Jekyll for being so prideful.

"Hey Henry." Lanyon found himself quietly saying. Obviously, with Frankenstein in the room he couldn't say anything too personal in case she woke up but... "I'm not sure if you can hear me or not. I guess I don't really know how unconscious you are right now but, if you _are_ aware in some way, I thought you might like some company. Since I'm here already and I don't have much else to be doing."

No response. He hadn't expected much else.

"Archer's been improving. Knowing you, you're more interested in that than your own health, huh?"

Jekyll continued to lay there collecting dust. Robert was starting to regret his decision to talk to Jekyll. He wasn't sure what he had expected but it felt like a part of him had hoped the doctor would twitch or murmur something in response, some sign that he was aware. As it was, it felt like he could just end the conversation there and it wouldn't matter.

"Rachel's looking after him and apparently I'm looking after you. They've decided to place you in Frankenstein's room, if you would believe it. Frankenstein's also doing... Well, I wouldn't say _well._ She's vomiting less blood and she can get up but, considering just last week she tried to crawl out of the God forsaken window of the _third_ floor, that's nothing new." Lanyon hesitated, tapping his leg with a finger, "She's tried to escape less recently. Not sure why. With everyone preoccupied like this, it's the perfect chance."

He paused. Maybe he shouldn't have said that, he could have given her ideas. He glanced over at her. Nope. She seemed to be out like a light.

Robert sighed in relief. Frankenstein making an escape attempt was the very last thing they needed at that time.

"...Franken...stein..?"

He froze. Slowly, like he was dealing with a frightened animal, Lanyon turned back to the bed.

Jekyll's eyelids fluttered and opened. His eyes were unfocused and a little heavy with weariness but they were open. He was awake.

Involuntarily, Lanyon's breath caught in his throat for a moment. He shook his head, clearing the strange wave of emotion and calming himself down.

"Henry." He spoke softly, not wanting to frighten his friend, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, why?" Henry's hazy eyes flicked to Robert. He only needed to take one look at those eyes to know that "Fine" was a lie.

"You've been unconscious for about two days."

His eyes crinkled slightly, suspiciously.

"Why? What did she do to me?"

"She?"

"Frankenstein." Henry replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Only she would do something like this."

"...Actually, it was Luckett."

Jekyll's eyes opened slightly wider in surprise.

"...What did Frankenstein do to Luckett?"

Lanyon was starting to get the impression that Jekyll was just a bit delirious.

"There was an explosion. You remember that, right?"

"...Explosion..? Oh, right. The explosion."

"Right. You got injured during the explosion and you're currently recovering. This make sense to you?"

Henry nodded slowly. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then:

"Who injured me?"

"Oh for the love of-! You were stabbed!"

"Stabbed?! Who did that?!" Henry’s eyes opened wider, looking aghast.

"The explosion! The shrapnel! Nobody stabbed you, Jekyll!" Robert groaned, exasperated.

"But you just said-"

Robert put his head in his hands. Delirious. 100% delirious. Hopefully it was just the blood loss and there wasn't some hidden brain damage on top of the hole.

Ok, different approach.

"Henry, listen. You. Are. _U_ _nwell_. You're a little ill right now so you need to lie down and rest for a bit so you can recover."

"...If it's just a little ill, I shouldn't be resting. Archer's injured right now and he needs me to help him."

Robert stared at him, feeling like ten years had just been taken from his lifespan.

"...I wish you would go back to being unconscious."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. What?"

"Never mind. Just rest up and trust me when I say I know what I'm doing."

Robert felt like cheering in relief when Henry just frowned a little but didn't argue with him further.

"I always trust you, Robert." Henry looked at him and smiled broadly with the child-like innocence of someone who _absolutely_ had no idea what was going on.

Robert stifled a snort of mirth at the expression.

"Well, mostly.” Henry continued, mumbling to himself, “Obviously I can't tell you much about Hyde..."

Lanyon paused in his amusement, his interest suddenly piqued. "Why not?"

"Because you trust me back and I don't want to lose that."

He stared at Henry for a moment, something hard and cold sitting unpleasantly in his stomach at the words at the same moment as a little surge of smug pride.

"You won't." He reassured. "Whatever is going on with you and Hyde, I'll understand. Maybe I could even help you."

Henry blinked up at him, studying his face intently.

"I don't think anyone can help me."

"You won't know until you try."

Robert, unthinking, took Henry's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He met Henry's eyes fixedly and internally willed Jekyll to speak with the intensity of one trying to prove some latent psychic ability.

Henry seemed thoughtful. (Although, given his delirium, Robert could guess that his train of thought was a lot more like a badly controlled cheetah running down the train tracks and frequently dodging the actual trains.)

Then, Henry cautiously reached up an arm and gently pulled Robert closer. Robert allowed him to do so, pulled next to Jekyll.

Henry carefully leaned forward until his lips almost brushed Lanyon's ear. His faint quick breaths proving what an effort he was making to stay awake and talking. When he spoke, Robert had to strain his ears to hear the dreaded whisper uttered by his friend.

_"I’m Edward Hyde."_

The swelling bubble of hope in Lanyon’s chest popped leaving just a hollow, sinking gap where it had been.

Henry, exhausted, fell back onto the bed and, from his nest of pillows and blankets, looked up at him expectantly and Robert forced himself to give Jekyll a reassuring smile. He was certain, if Henry was thinking straight, he would have noticed immediately the strain on Robert’s face and the way he quickly looked away, unable to look his friend in the eye.

It was his own mistake, of course.

Jekyll was delirious – He didn't know fact from fiction – even if he _had_ said something believable, Robert would have had to take it with a pinch of salt.

"...Are you... Upset..?"

Robert smiled, trying to hide the disappointment on his face. "Of course not."

Henry smiled and Lanyon’s breath caught in his throat with a strangled gasp.

It wasn't like any smile he had ever given Lanyon before. It wasn't any of his fakes or half smiles. It was a look of complete and utter relief and thankfulness, so blissfully happy that he was barely recognizable as the same person. His entire face practically glowed with joy and tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

"Thank you." Henry's voice cracked as the tears began to trickle down his face, _"Thank you."_

Then, slowly, reluctantly, his eyes closed again and his breathing evened, the water on his cheeks glistening in the light as they were left to dry. Robert pulled his sleeve down over his hand and wiped them away, disappointment forgotten.

Sure, it had been a bust but, in some small way, it felt worth it just to see Henry look so happy again.

He stood and, with one more look at Jekyll's sleeping face (Which seemed just a little more peaceful now), Lanyon left to get new bandages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing the first scene and accidentally wrote Archer into it because I forgot he was injured. Whoops.  
> Also, this chapter got a little angstier than I meant it to.


	6. Poisoning of the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll becomes delirious and starts to make things difficult.  
> Aka, local man discovers sweating. Doesn't take it well.

Jekyll felt sticky. There was something slick and cold and wet covering his body that stuck his hair to his head and adhered the sheets he was bundled in to his exposed skin. The air smelt strongly of chemicals. He thought they were of the medical variety but he wasn't quite sure.

He wondered if he had spilled some chemicals on himself. They didn't burn and, through bleary eyes, he noticed that the liquid was colourless, the sheen of the light on it the only sign that it was there at all. He was wearing more layers than he was used to, some stranger material bound tightly around his torso.

Someone should really clean that up. Spilled chemicals were dangerous, especially on human skin.

Some of the liquid on his forehead dripped into his eye and he blinked it away rapidly, desperate to keep whatever chemical it was out of his eyes. Oddly, it didn’t hurt but he didn’t want to take any chances. He wanted to wipe it away with his hand but, as he lifted them, he realized that his hands were equally coated.

...He felt strangely weak and it was difficult to focus. He was certain he should get up, get a bath and clean the chemicals off himself before they could do anymore damage but he could barely move. Were the chemicals doing that to him? Were they sapping his strength like a leech? Or were they permeating through his pores, trickling into his bloodstream, travelling to the brain and...

He shuddered at the thought. One thing was clear, whatever this fluid was, it was causing his weakness and confusion and he needed it off. Now.

Forcing himself out of bed was an ordeal and it took all his effort to flop out of his bed like a fish onto the floor. Every part of his body wanted to lay there and let him drift back into unconsciousness but he _had_ to move. He couldn't fall unconscious. That could mean death or worse.

His fingers scrabbled a little against the floor, his body too slimy to get a proper grip.

As he crawled across the floor, his mind flicked back to the situation. How had he been covered in such chemicals? He couldn't remember spilling anything on himself. Besides, he had been in a bed, not his lab or his office.

That meant only one thing. Sabotage.

One of the lodgers must have poured some potion of theirs on him while he slept – an attempt at murdering him or some other fiendish scheme.

Who had done it, though? Was it just one of them or was it a group that plotted his downfall? Maybe it was all of them.

They wanted the society gone. What better way to do so than remove the leader?

Jekyll shuddered, nauseous with fright. What if one of them caught him? They certainly wouldn't allow him to save himself, that was for sure. Would they simply move him back to his bed or..?

No. No, he wasn't letting them kill him. Frankenstein could plot all she wanted but he wasn't going down without a fight.

With this determined thought in mind, Henry crawled out the door. He noticed Frankenstein asleep in a bed in the room. Asleep, luckily. He guessed she was supposed to be a sentinel to his deteriorating condition. A poorly chosen one given her condition but, he supposed, they all looked up to her so much that she would have been the only choice in their minds to oversee his demise. It seemed their idolatry of her had, for once, worked in his favour.

He slipped out into the hallway and unsteadily stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. Being awake and standing sapped at his strength quickly and he knew he had to move soon but he also needed a moment to get his bearings.

"Hyde?"

His voice was slurred and faint to his ears. Somehow, hearing his own voice frightened him more than any of the weakness or clear rivulets dripping down his arms. Weakness was something normal to him given how little he slept and the liquid felt... Familiar somehow, although he couldn't say how.

Hearing his own voice, fragile and bewildered, was the thing that struck the point into his mind. This was real. This was happening. There really _was_ something wrong with him.

Worse, for once in his _entire_ existence, Hyde didn't answer. Jekyll was left listening to a deafening silence.

He didn't get along with his alter ego particularly well but he was always there. He always had something to say.

Now, for the first time in two years, Jekyll was truly alone.

Hyde was gone, possibly taken by whatever drug was in his system, Jekyll was in a building full of people who wanted him dead and he was more scared than he had ever been in his life.

His eyesight blurred for a moment, suddenly wet. Jekyll blinked it away and pulled himself together again. He could pity himself later. Right now, his life was on the line.

Wait, what was he doing again?

He took a moment. His eyes drew back to the liquid on his arms. Ah, right, that. He needed a bath. Wasn't that amusing? His life might depend on a bath of all things.

Collecting his bearings again, he started heading in a direction. His progress was painfully slow given the urgency of the situation but he simply didn't have the strength to move any faster. It was horrifically clear that, if he encountered anyone in the hallway, he wouldn't have the strength to escape. He would have to hide and that would only make the journey longer.

Henry resigned himself to this fact with a frustrated sigh and started keeping an ear out for anyone approaching.

It wasn't long before he heard approaching footsteps and practically collapsed behind a nearby sofa. His tired body rejoiced at the opportunity to stop for a bit even if he mentally beat himself with a stick for getting too comfortable.

 _This is life or death._ He mentally snapped at himself, _We- I can't lie here forever._

_Why not? I don't really want to get up. Why can't I just lie here and die?_

Jekyll froze. He knew that voice.

_Hyde?_

But that fleeting presence was gone and he wasn't certain if it had ever happened at all or if he was just that desperate to hear a friendly- uh... Familiar voice.

He was distracted by approaching voices.

"I've heard that Archer's awake again. It won't be much longer before he's fit enough to get up and walk around again."

He believed that voice was Ito.

Archer... Had something happened to Archer..? It rung something familiar in his head but he couldn't quite remember.

They wouldn't have done something to Archer as well, would they? No, that didn't sound right.

"And Henry?"

...Lavender..? That sounded like Lavender.

Two of the more level-headed people in the society and here they were, talking about him. Plotting?

"Unconscious. He's barely awake at all and, when he is, he doesn't make much sense." A pause. "I wish I knew more about human medical conditions. Maybe then I would be able to tell how bad it is."

"When you say 'Doesn't make much sense', is it flat out gibberish or delusions?"

The two arrived in the hallway and stopped just outside Henry's hiding place. He pressed himself hard into the wall and held his breath.

Ito was right in Jekyll's line of sight. If she just turned her head a little to the right she would see him clearly as day and there would be nothing he could do about it. His heart raced.

She was giving Lavender a curious look.

Lavender shrugged, "I study creatures that can send men mad. I've seen delusions and gibberish before."

A moment longer and Ito sighed. "It's not really in that way."

The pair started to move again and, the moment their backs were to him, he slowly crawled to the other side of the sofa and hid behind that side, finally, thankfully, out of their sight. He dared not move any further, though, until the pair were completely gone.

It sounded like his deterioration to this state had been slow. If he had been unconscious most of the time, it would mean nobody would expect him to get up and escape now. Hopefully he could use this to his advantage.

Reluctantly, he forced himself back to two feet and set off again.

He was constantly aware of the stickiness on his skin. Somehow, the liquid never quite seemed to dry out but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable and gross. He would be thankful to get it off for that reason alone, whether or not his life was on the line.

The next time he encountered someone, he wasn't so lucky.

He was on the verge of blacking out again so, as it was, he was too focused on staying conscious to hear the approaching footsteps.

He did, however, hear the crash of a small glass bottle smashing on the floor after slipping out of shocked fingers.

It was so loud that he already knew that half of the building had heard it too.

Slowly, shakily, Jekyll raised his eyes and met the gaze of his discoverer.

Luckett was gaping at him, open mouthed. The expression on his face was strange and Jekyll's inability to read his emotions only spiked his heart rate further.

The liquid in the bottle was transparent. When Jekyll realized this, his heart leapt to his throat.

No, no, no.

He spun on his heel, determined to run but his body had other ideas. Taking his hands off the wall so he could run, he instantly lost balance, the floor tilting sickeningly beneath him and sending him sprawling.

He lay there gasping, tears welling quickly to his eyes. No. _No._ He wasn't going to look weak. He wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

"Dr Jekyll!"

Luckett was quick to kneel by Henry's side. Henry drew his arms over his face, a pitiful attempt to protect himself.

  
  


"Christ, what are you doing out of bed?!"

Luckett didn't know what to think of Dr Jekyll, curled into a ball on the floor. His arms covered his face which only put them, in all their painfully thin, pale glory, directly in Luckett's line of sight.

He had done his best not to think about Archer and Jekyll's condition up until this point, particularly his own role to play in causing them.

Looking at Jekyll now caused a twist in his gut. He shook it off.

It wasn't the first time his explosions had hurt someone and he had learnt that wallowing in regret didn't change anything that had already happened.

What would change things would be helping him _now_.

He was glad to note the sound of people approaching, drawn by the smashed bottle but, right now, it was his job to assess the situation.

Jekyll was still conscious but he was trembling violently which mismatched his sweat-soaked appearance. Was Jekyll too cold or too hot?

He reached forwards and, moving Jekyll's feeble arms out of the way, placed his hand on Jekyll's forehead. Ok, cold.

He didn't get any more than that, however, because the moment his hand touched Jekyll's head, the doctor cried out and began to thrash.

The doctor was too weak to cause any real harm but the reaction was so sudden and unexpected that Luckett leapt back, alarmed.

"Dr Jekyll?"

A hazy eye met Luckett's and he was taken aback by the almost feral fear and hatred directed straight at him, burning in those almost crimson eyes.

"Get away from me."

His voice was slurred in a way just like a drunkard's would after they had one too many but Luckett knew that Jekyll wasn't drunk. What startled him more, however, was that the doctor sounded terrified. It was badly masked by the resentment in his tone, his voice trembling and high with fright.

Jekyll honestly looked like some half-starved, rabid cat crouched on the floor like that and Luckett was starting to get the sense that the doctor wasn't thinking straight at that time.

That was when Lavender and Ito rushed in.

"Jekyll!" Ito was the first to yell out and rush for the injured doctor. Jekyll flinched away, drawing up his arms once again and, this time, Luckett recognized the pose. Jekyll was trying to protect his face. Specifically, he was prepared to defend himself from a hit.

Luckett quickly threw up his own arm in a barrier, stopping Ito from getting any closer.

"Luckett, wha-"

Then Ito was close enough to see Jekyll's face clearly and he knew she saw it too. She slowed to a stop, Lavender hurrying up behind her to peer over her shoulder.

There would be more people coming soon but, for that moment, it was just the three of them.

Three of them stood in uncertain silence, no-one quite sure how to approach the situation.

"Dr Jekyll." Lavender was the first to speak, softening her voice and crouching down beside Luckett, doing her best to emphasise her unthreatening appearance (Lavender was usually disappointed that she wasn't scarier but, just this once, she was grateful for it). "Hey, it's ok. It's us."

"I know who you are." Jekyll replied curtly. "Not a step closer."

"We won't." She soothed. "Jekyll. You're sick, ok? You need to get back to bed and rest."

 _"No!"_ Jekyll scrabbled back further with a yell of alarm, " _No!_ I'm not letting you!"

Lavender gave a puzzled glance at Ito and Luckett. The pair just shrugged at her, equally bewildered.

"...Not letting me do what?"

A bark of hysterical laughter that chilled the trio to the bone.

"Oh don't you even pretend. I know what you're trying. Poisoning me is a new low for you but, news flash: I'm not dying to you that easily!"

The accusation was so out of left field that Lavender didn't know how to respond at first. She slowly turned to Ito.

"...When you said Jekyll wasn't making much sense..?"

Ito didn't even need to nod. The expression on her face said everything.

"Although," Ito admitted, "This is the most sense he's made so far."

"Ok, Jekyll. Nobody's poisoned you. What would we even have to gain from that?" Lavender reasoned, expecting Jekyll to see the light of the situation and let them take him back to bed.

She wasn’t expecting his response.

"I'm the leader of the society. If I go down, so does the society." Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Lavender could swear there was an eerie green glint in his eyes as they glared her down. "You and Frankenstein win."

A silence fell. None of them knew how to respond to that. There was a sinking sensation in Lavender's chest as she began to take in his words.

"You really think we would do that?" She asked quietly.

"You've hated me since Frankenstein arrived. I know you don't want me but this society is everything to me and I would rather die than see it destroyed." Another harsh laugh. "Guess I will at this rate."

The quiet in the room was numb. If Jekyll wasn't delirious, he never would have said such things but, at that time, she knew he was too out of it to knowingly lie.

A suspicion grew in her.

"The injury you sustained," She said slowly, "Did... Did you hide it because you didn't think we'd take it seriously?"

A confused pause from Jekyll. She could practically see the cogs turning in his head. "...Injury..? You mean the scratch?"

"I mean the injury on your back."

"S'not worth worrying about." His eyes clouded over a little and he was clearly struggling to stay conscious. "Other's got worse injured. I'm the leader, I can't throw a fuss. Can't lose that respect any further. Can't seem weak, not with Frankenstein about. The society... It'll fall apart without me... It'll fall apart if I can't hold it together… And… I… I..."

Then, eyes fluttering, he said something that caused all three of them to stop breathing for a few seconds.

"S'not like you care about me anyway."

Then he collapsed onto his back, panting heavily on the floor while the three stared at each other, horrified. The only sound was Jekyll’s laboured breathing.

His speech seemed to have used up most of his energy. The doctor barely moved from his position on the floor, for the moment not even attempting escape. His shirt had been pushed up a little showing the white of the bandaging around his torso. They were a little dirty from crawling on the floor and crouching in dusty corners.

Luckett was the first to speak.

"...Did... Did we give off that impression or is he just delirious?" Luckett asked nervously. "I mean... I know we've been a little... Disrespectful to him lately but... You know, we're scientists! We – Well, _I_ at least – just want a bit of creative freedom. If I wanted out of the society, I would just leave. Jekyll's just a bit controlling sometimes and..." He stuttered to an awkward halt. "...What about you guys?"

"I _do_ care about Jekyll." Lavender said slowly. "I just like to do things my own way without someone ordering me about. It's my area of research and it's a little insulting to have someone there trying to tell me how to do my job, especially when they haven't done any real science for years. It doesn't mean I want him dead."

They both turned to Ito who had a musing look on her face.

"...I don't think anyone properly explained the situation to Jekyll." Ito said at last. "...And I don't think Jekyll has properly spoken to us about it, either."

"He talks about it constantly," Luckett pointed out. "How much more properly do you want?"

"No, I think I know what she's getting at." Lavender crossed her legs and dejectedly watched the jerky rise and fall of Jekyll's chest. "He keeps saying we need to do the exhibition but he's never quite explained _why_ it's so important. I thought it was just his pride but, if he hid something like this, I wonder what else he didn't say."

Jekyll was making a feeble attempt to crawl away.

More lodgers were starting to stream in and there were quite a few sharp intakes of breath. The first three, however, ignored them.

Lavender hesitated for a second before standing up and walking around Jekyll so she could crouch before his head. Jekyll cringed back but met her gaze steadily.

"Henry." It felt weird to use his first name. It was weirdly unprofessional but this wasn't a professional moment. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Just tell me what you want."

Henry's brow furrowed a little as though he couldn't quite understand what he had just heard.

Lavender didn’t push, she just waited patiently for a response. After a short while, she was rewarded.

"I want it off." His voice was painfully quiet. She frowned at him and he raised a hand, rivulets of sweat dripping from the fingers. "I want the poison gone."

Lavender took a moment to look at his hand and then his gaze, fixed on the water droplets falling to the floor. As realization struck her, she almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of the request.

It was the sweat. He was scared of his own sweat.

"Of course. I wouldn't be willing to wash you myself but I'm sure I can get you some clean water and soap."

Jekyll seemed surprised, as though he were expecting a fight over the subject. "...What's the catch?"

"The only catch is, you have to rest up and let yourself recover." She gave him a small smile. "Trust me, ok?"

Jekyll hesitated, uncertain for a second. Then, to prove her sincerity, Lavender reached forwards and grasped his hand, ignoring how cold and clammy his skin was.

His eyes widened as he looked from her hand (which was grasping some sort of poison in his mind) to her face.

For a moment, a little of the foggy delirium seemed to fade from his eyes and met hers, seeming, at last, to understand, if only a little.

Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, his limp hand still grasped in hers. She let go, carefully lowering him to the floor.

As Jekyll was gently taken back to bed, Lavender nipped to the bathroom to wash her hand and get a bowl of soapy water for Jekyll.


	7. A Well Needed Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll wakes up again and talks with a few people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I haven't updated this in a while. I would like to be able to give a good explanation as to why but the truth is, I picked up my old copy of Breath of the Wild and I've been playing it for weeks. I still haven't finished the game and I don't think I'm close to finishing either.

Henry took a few seconds after waking to gather his thoughts. Most of what had happened lately was fuzzy to him in a way a little like a blackout drunk.

Over the past few days, he remembered numerous attempts to escape for one reason or another. His excuses ranged from reasonable (He had work to be doing) to much less reasonable and much more humiliating reasons (There was a monster in the room. The monster in question being Creature who had just given him a long look as the lodgers dragged him back to his bed.)

Henry, still feeling ill and a little groggy, planted his face into the pillow and groaned.

This was great for this authority. Years worth of building up his image only to have it ruined by him running about delirious. It wasn't even Hyde this time, it was literally just Jekyll.

Had the injury really been _that_ bad? Hyde was usually the one with a higher pain tolerance – Jekyll had assumed that he wouldn’t have been able to move at all if the injury had really been so bad. At this rate, however, it was starting to look like he had been wrong.

Besides, Hyde had agreed with him that it probably wasn’t that bad.

(...Actually, maybe that wasn’t exactly a trustworthy source of medical information.)

Speaking of which... Jekyll could hear the faint groaning from his head of his alter-ego's suffering.

Hyde, as a manifestation of his own mind, was doing the worst. Jekyll's mind simply couldn't focus on anything long enough for Hyde to be fully conscious. His personal demon spent a lot of time groaning or mumbling incoherently before fading back into non-existence.

On occasion, when Jekyll was feeling a little stronger, Hyde would say something that actually made sense. These little nuggets of wisdom came in the form of strings of colourful swear words that would probably cause a priest to faint from shock, assuming such foul language didn't kill him immediately.

He smiled wistfully, hearing Hyde faintly say something about chickens before slipping back into Jekyll's head.

"Any particular reason you're smiling to yourself over there, doctor?"

The smile slid off Jekyll's face.

"Or is it just delirium again?" Frankenstein finished.

Admittedly, his worst patient had been a lot less aggressive lately but Jekyll still drew into himself whenever she was awake.

At that moment, unfortunately, it seemed, she was up.

Henry didn't respond, drawing the blankets more tightly around himself and pretending he hadn't heard her. He was tired anyway, it was a good time to go back to sleep again.

With a disapproving click of the tongue, Frankenstein rolled her eyes.

Jekyll lay in his blankets trying to sleep but, to his irritation, despite his own weariness, his body refused to sleep.

"Maybe you're ignoring me but I was wondering how you injured your back anyway. Shrapnel?"

"To be perfectly honest, I don't know." Jekyll replied, his voice muffled by blankets. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well make some sort of conversation. As loathed as he was to admit it, he still cared about Frankenstein's opinion of him and really wanted to get along well with her. "As I said, I didn't know it was even a real injury."

"But didn't it hurt?"

"You're constantly vomiting up blood and yet, _somehow_ , insist you don't need help."

"I don't."

Jekyll couldn't help a snort at that.

"I mean it." Frankenstein continued. "I can treat myself. I don't need some phony doctor to treat me."

Jekyll couldn't help but fantasize about using one of Hyde's creative, delirious curses on her at that moment. Sadly, none of them were exactly the sort of language he should be using as a gentleman no matter how creative Hyde’s suggestions on the uses of clockwork were.

"You don't even have a doctorate." He retorted instead, "I'm more of a doctor than you."

Annoyed grumbling.

Jekyll rolled over, attempting to get to sleep in a different position.

"...You know, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Hm?" Henry cracked open an eye and glanced over at Frankenstein who was fiddling with her fingers.

"Escaping the room and getting halfway across the society before anyone caught you."

"Jealous?"

The friendly snark was out before he realized what he was saying. His cheeks flushed. Frankenstein, however, just laughed.

"Well if you have any tips?" She replied.

Nope. He must be delusional. Or maybe he did fall asleep and this was a dream.

Frankenstein was _not_ smiling at him.

And yet, her lips seemed to be quirked in something that, on any other face, would have looked suspiciously like a smile. And not a smug one either but friendly.

"Well, you've got to be delusional for it to work." He muttered into his pillow, loud enough for Frankenstein to hear. "But even then you only get halfway. Maybe you need to be raving something about being Napoleon before you're delusional enough to make it the whole way."

He didn't actually remember the first escape from his room. People had told him it happened and that he had been delusional at the time but they refused to say anything further on the subject. When Jekyll asked what sort of madness he had been raving, people either wouldn't know or they would go quiet, suddenly and mysteriously unable to meet his eye.

It made him nervous.

Maybe he _had_ been raving something about being Napoleon.

She snorted. "Well, doctor, I certainly like you better like this."

"Sick?"

Frankenstein took a moment to look for the word. "Open." She settled on.

"Open?"

"You feel less fake like this. I actually feel like I'm talking to a person."

"I wasn't a person before?" Henry grumbled. He would have gotten more ticked off at that statement before but, at that moment, he simply didn't have the energy.

Frankenstein shrugged. He scowled at her out of the corner of his eye before rolling over again, onto his back, still unable to sleep.

"I don't want to be this open." He mumbled, more to himself than anything. However, he must have spoken louder than he intended because Frankenstein glanced over at him curiously.

"Why?"

"It's not proper of me." He pursed his lips, vague memories of speaking to Lanyon lapping at the shores of his mind. A glint of a memory of him whispering something into Lanyon's ear that Lanyon never should have heard.

Jekyll wished he could kick the memory back out to sea.

"I've said things I shouldn't have."

A low hum from Frankenstein. "How bad?"

"Very."

Another piece of the memory surfaced.

_"Are you upset?"_

_"Of course not."_

Jekyll shifted and bit his lip. Had he imagined that conversation? He couldn't imagine that Lanyon would be so accepting of the truth but, then again, whatever happened after that was just darkness to him. Had Lanyon said anything else about it?

...Should he ask about it later?

"Did you tell someone you hated them to their face or something?"

Another sour look from Henry in his frustrating companion's direction.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop pushing. I'm just bored."

Had Lanyon told anyone else? He felt a chill at the thought.

He turned over yet again. He wished he could get up for a bit. Wander about until his thoughts settled enough to sleep. Sadly, he strongly doubted anyone would be pleased at that decision considering all his escape attempts. Was this how Frankenstein had felt all this time? Laying in a bed, too worked up to sleep properly but too ill to do anything else?

He glanced at her quickly. The other scientist was picking at the bedding. Clearly she didn't have much else to do.

Jekyll's eyes were drawn to the piles of books the lodgers had given him. Frankenstein had gotten gifts similarly but...

"Hey, Frankenstein?"

She frowned up at him, clearly surprised that he had spoken to her first. Henry sat up and plucked a book from his pile.

"I know the lodgers have been giving you books but I don't suppose anyone's given you 'The Morals and Practice of Pyromancy in the Eighteenth Century?'"

"...Uh... No."

"I will trade you for that for your copy of Treasure Island."

A bemused smirk twitched at the corner of Frankenstein's lip. "I didn't think you would enjoy that sort of book."

"Well I've already finished my pile of books and I imagine you've finished yours. Might as well trade. It'll pass the time quicker."

Frankenstein sorted through her pile for a second before picking up a book and, to Jekyll's alarm, throwing it at him. He yelped, his arms instinctively trying to cover his face. The book, however, landed on his lap.

He gave an uneasy look at the object in his lap.

"Creature? Can you hand this book to Frankenstein. More politely than she did?"

Creature took his book silently, although there seemed to be a flicker of amusement in his expression as he gave the book to Frankenstein.

"Boring." She sniffed.

"Safe." Jekyll corrected just as the door opened.

They both looked up to see Ito step in, two other lodgers trailing behind. They all glanced about the room, clearly looking for Lanyon. When the coast was proven clear, they entered completely.

"Wow, both of you are awake at the same time." Luckett piped up first, "That doesn't happen often."

Ignoring Luckett, Ito turned to look at Jekyll. He twitched his foot, nervously.

Ito, Lavender and Luckett had been the strangest to him since his first escape attempt. Sure, Lavender was usually a little more worried about him than everyone else and Luckett, although he hid it well, clearly felt bad about the explosion but, since that day, the three of them kept a much closer eye on him. They visited him more than any other person and would constantly ask how he was.

 _"No, not physically. Mentally."_ Ito had emphasised when he had answered.

_"I'm... I think I'm thinking straight right now... But then again, if I'm thinking it and I'm not thinking straight then how can I tell if how I'm thinking is the right way to think..?"_

...In all fairness, he had _not_ been thinking straight at that point in time.

_"No, I don't mean... Nevermind."_

That response had puzzled Jekyll. He thought he would understand later, when his head was clearer but, no matter how many times he pondered over it, no matter when he pondered over it, the meaning eluded him.

 _"Before all of this happened."_ Luckett had said, trying and failing to act casual, _"Was there anything... Anything in particular going on?"_

_"...Frankenstein."_

_"Was that all?"_

_"...The exhibition..? Why are you asking?"_

_"Well, I just..."_

Luckett clammed up, unsure what to say. The behaviour put him on edge.

Lavender was the most subtle. Not because she was a subtler person than the others but simply because she had always put a little more attention to him. Frankenstein had practically assigned her to Dr Jekyll and she clearly didn't want to let her idol down. In fact, she was so subtle that Jekyll wasn't quite sure if he was simply being paranoid.

It was that slight tilt, just like the other two, towards her mental health. She made a point of asking about his mental state every time she asked how he was feeling physically.

_"You're not distressed in any way?"_

_"Well. I have a lot of work I would like to be doing right about now. It distresses me to think of all that work piling up while I'm sat here."_

He had intended it as a joke but Lavender's response had, instead, been concern. She had proceeded to poke at why the work was distressing him. Was there much of it? Had there always been a lot of it? Was it to do with the exhibition?

Jekyll, unnerved by her keen interest had made some excuse about feeling tired to divert the questioning. She had clearly wanted to say more but, reluctantly, accepted that he needed to rest.

She had looked at him one more time before leaving the room and he felt unease twist at his stomach when he saw her last lingering glance. She looked concerned.

Now, all three of them were there at once. Probably a coincidence but a more paranoid part of his mind said they had planned to come together.

"Dr Jekyll." She greeted, looking him up and down with a flicker of concern betrayed in her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired but, tragically, unable to sleep. Otherwise, fine."

A couple of seconds of thoughtfulness. "I've heard it won't be much longer until you're well enough to get up and work again."

"Oh, thank God." He sighed in relief, missing the deepening concern on their faces at his words. "What about Archer?"

"Technically well enough but Rachel's clucking over him like a mother hen." Luckett piped up, "After what happened to you, she doesn't want to leave any stone unturned."

Jekyll nodded sagely. Made sense.

"Lanyon wants to get you under Rachel's care." Lavender mentioned, "You probably won't be here with Frankenstein much longer."

He hesitated at that.

No, he didn't like Frankenstein particularly but it was nice to be able to keep an eye on her even in his current state. It made him feel like he was actually doing something. Moving rooms would just make him feel like he was completely shirking work. Henry decided to voice these concerns.

"Oh. I don't suppose I can convince him to let me stay here? It's easier to keep an eye on both of us that way and I would like to keep an eye on Frankenstein's condition."

"Dr Jekyll, I think it would be better if you took a break from work for a little while. Until you recover at least." Ito spoke firmly in a way that made Jekyll feel like he had done something wrong.

Had he? Had he said something to her that he shouldn't have?

 _"Did you tell someone you hated them to their face or something?"_ That was what Frankenstein asked. He had been thinking of Lanyon at the time but...

He squirmed, a little uncomfortable under her hard gaze. Should he breach the topic?

It was just those three in the room.

Well. Them and _Frankenstein_.

(...And Creature but he doubted Creature would care.)

He took a deep breath. "I don't remember a lot over the last few days but... Did I... Say something to you?"

A curious look in return.

"The three of you have been acting strangely to me. Have I insulted you or..?"

"Did I give off the impression of someone insulted?"

"Well... No. Just suggesting possibilities. It's clear that I've said something to you and it's making me nervous."

The three looked at each other and Jekyll wished he could just vanish right there and then. If only Griffin's invisibility potion worked on anything larger than a mouse.

"You still don't remember the first time you escaped your room, correct?" Ito asked.

"...No."

"And nobody's told you." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"No," He answered anyway.

"You were kind of in a state when we found you. Delusions. You know the drill."

A little embarrassed, Jekyll nodded.

"The thing is," Ito took a breath, her eyes flicking to the side, clearly recalling something unpleasant. "You were convinced we had poisoned you."

"O-oh..." It was pretty humiliating but he had been expecting more after how quiet everyone had been about it.

"And-" She continued, prompting Jekyll to look up at her again, "-You said the reason you didn't bring up your injury was because you didn't think we'd take it seriously."

She had said it like it was some big and terrible revelation but, for all Jekyll thought about it, he couldn't see anything wrong with that statement. He wasn’t quite sure how to reply.

"I thought it wasn't that bad.” He decided to say at last, “It seemed like an overreaction to me."

"You said we wouldn't care about it." Lavender cut in. "...That we don't care about you."

Jekyll raised an eyebrow, still unable to see the problem. He felt certain he was thinking clearly but the trio were acting like he had said the world was ending and he didn't know why. Maybe he wasn’t thinking so clearly after all. "I'm the leader of the society."

"...You keep saying that." It was Luckett's turn to speak. "Why does that matter?"

Henry frowned. "Look, I know none of you are particularly fond of the society. I'm not exactly your best friend here – I'm not the sort of person you would drop everything for just because of a small injury. Is it really that weird that I decided to deal with it myself? I can't emphasise enough that I didn't think it was as bad as it was."

"That can't be true." Luckett continued, "It must have been painful – Really painful – You must have had some sort of suspicion."

Jekyll was starting to get irritated at the circles the conversation was making. He took a breath, reminding himself that irritability was simply a side-effect of the blood loss.

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying you must have thought there was a chance it was worse than it was. You thought there was a chance you would die but you didn't bring it up because you were more afraid of looking weak than _dying_. Or, worse, you didn't think we would care even if you _were_ dying."

The implications settled in, not just in the injured doctor but everyone in the room. Even Frankenstein sat up, suddenly staring at Jekyll with wide eyes. He caught the horrified look in that expression and quickly looked away, biting the inside of his cheek hard.

His mind raced through every excuse he could give. He cursed himself for not finding any good excuses to give.

He _had_ an excuse. It had just been torn through like wet cardboard.

"You're overthinking it."

Ok, that _couldn't_ be the best he could do.

Yet, trying to think of anything else to say just came up blank. Well, besides the truth of course.

"...I don't think he is." Ito replied quietly. "You told us the society would fall apart if you lost our respect."

He cursed his delirium yet again.

"I want to know something, Jekyll. Why is the exhibition so important?"

"Funding." Henry answered simply, a little relieved at the change of subject.

"Why? What is the financial situation of the society right now?"

"It's... Steady. Doesn't hurt to have some extra funds in case of an emergency though."

"You hesitated."

Now he was less relieved at the subject change.

"I... Um..."

The problem with telling the lodgers about the financial situation was that they would probably do something illegal to get those funds. Well, the other problem was they could take advantage of it to take the society down.

He shook his head. Was that thought a little too paranoid?

The trio were glancing at each other and he couldn't quite read their expressions. Involuntarily, his eyes flicked to Frankenstein.

His more annoying patient looked more alert than she had in a while. Like the other three, in his exhaustion, it was impossible to tell how she was feeling.

Surprise? There was certainly some of that in there mixed in with other emotions he couldn't quite figure out.

It put him on edge.

"Henry." Lavender spoke quietly. She thought for a moment before, cautiously, "If you want to keep this a secret, we won't tell anyone. Anything you tell us will remain in this room."

Jekyll looked at Frankenstein again, this time rather pointedly.

It took Frankenstein a moment of being stared at by everyone in the room before she finally caught on.

"I... I'll keep quiet."

"You can excuse me if I'm not convinced." Henry snarked, a little of his irritation leaking out.

"Dr Jekyll, whatever it is, it'll probably be worse if you don't explain by this point." Ito pointed out, "It leaves us to come to our own conclusions and Frankenstein doesn't seem to be one for nicer conclusions."

Jekyll bit his lip. She... Had a point.

Still, to show a weakness like that in front of Frankenstein...

"...Recently, the main source of income for the society was pulled…" He began.

  
  


Jekyll didn't remember most of his explanation. He was exhausted, a little dizzy and, at some point, he stopped caring about how much he was telling them. (Although he was thankful, in hindsight, that he kept to the subject of finances. He wasn't sure what he would have done if he had told them all about Hyde after that disastrous talk with Lanyon.)

He was also pretty sure that at some point he blurted some of Hyde's delirious mutterings aloud and he was pretty _pretty_ sure that it contained swearing judging by the startled looks on everyone's faces.

When he was finished, he was so exhausted that he couldn’t even sit up any more. There was some talking between the other lodgers that he couldn’t quite understand as he struggled to stay conscious.

Then something drifted through his fading awareness that he _could_ understand.

“Don’t worry, Jekyll. We’ll make sure the exhibition works out so please stop pushing yourself. For everyone’s sake?”

Then everything, once again, went dark.

  
  



	8. A Slip of the Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll and Lanyon talk about important things.  
> It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for swearing this chapter.

Jekyll's morning started with the ringing of loud and rather dazed swearing in his head.

His first instinct was to pull the pillows over his ears but, when the swearing continued as loudly as ever, it became increasingly clear that no amount of ear covering would help. Edward Hyde was awake and he was annoyed.

"Christ, shut up." Jekyll snapped at his alter ego before remembering where he was. Nervously, he peeked out from under the covers of the bed but, thankfully, Frankenstein was fast asleep and, although Creature cocked an eyebrow at him curiously, he didn't comment on the outburst.

Henry waved awkwardly at Creature before ducking back under the covers.

 _"What even happened?!"_ Hyde demanded, finishing his swearing tirade and beginning on something more understandable, _"The last I remember is you being a wuss about your cut and then-"_

"Wound." Jekyll corrected. "You've been out _that_ long?"

_"Wound? Wait, why are we sleeping in Frankenstein's room? Is this some new attempt to get her to like you or..?"_

Jekyll quickly and quietly filled Hyde in on what had been going on. For all the misery of the past few days, at least he got a certain amount of enjoyment at Hyde's cringing as he explained how Hyde had been faring through all of this. At this explanation, Edward proceeded to splutter a few protests and accuse Henry of lying.

The Spirit of London at Night obviously could not, under any circumstance, be taken down.

Moreover, Jekyll had been conscious while he had not. Such a thing would imply that the “great and wicked spirit” was in some way weaker than the doctor and that was “simply impossible”. Jekyll, throughout this, attempted to point out that, even if he was physically awake, he certainly hadn’t been fully awake in the mental department. Aka, exactly where Hyde was.

 _"How did you manage to get accidentally stabbed anyway?"_ Hyde finally accused, bored of the back and forth on whether or not Hyde had really sung some old Scottish poem at the top of his lungs over and over for about an hour. Badly.

"Honestly? I have absolutely no idea. I feel like getting stabbed accidentally is more of your forte."

_"When I get stabbed, it's deliberately. Don't make me sound like some... Headless antelope!"_

"Headless antelope?" That was kind of a strange thing for Hyde to say. In fact, that sounded a little like his strange gibberish from earlier. "...Are you sure you feel well?"

 _"Of course I do."_ Hyde snorted. Then, he faltered slightly like some sort of mental stutter. _"I... I just feel a little weird is all. Probably just being in your head for so long. When was the last time I was let out?"_

"Well it won't be any time soon. I don't know what transforming would do to me right now. Besides, I can't even get to my office to get the potion."

More grumbling.

"Look, It's not on me this time. Although, I wonder if it'll be safe to transform again once all of this has healed up." Jekyll paused for a moment, digesting what he himself had just said. Abruptly, he shot bolt upright with a cry, startling Creature. "The exhibition! When's the exhibition?!"

Creature stared at him with an odd look for a second before slowly turning back to Frankenstein.

"...I don't know." Creature said. Then, after another pause. "By the way, I could hear you talking to yourself just now. You're not really that quiet."

Henry felt his cheeks heat up.

"I'm not that good with human psychology but I don't think that's healthy."

He ignored Creature's comment and the burning humiliation, throwing off the bedsheets and leaping to his feet. For a moment, he was struck by a sickening wave of nausea and vertigo, his back protesting with a loud pain, but he quickly shook it off and made towards the door.

"I wouldn't recommend that."

"I just need to speak to someone, ok? I won't be long."

Creature just shrugged and went back to watching Frankenstein. Henry was relieved that he wasn't going to push any further and swung open the door, ready to leave. To his surprise, though, the door was pulled open from the other side just as he started to push. Thrown off balance, Jekyll fell through the door with a yelp, landing on something.

The something also let out a cry.

Pinned beneath a tangle of arms and legs, staring at Jekyll with an equal volume of surprise, was Robert Lanyon.

They stared at each other.

Jekyll was the first to recover from the shock, practically throwing himself off Lanyon. The sudden movement induced a new wave of nausea and he gagged, stumbling awkwardly on his feet. Quickly, he began to apologize, still trying to regain his balance.

Lanyon looked a little dazed on the floor and his face had a bright red flush. After a moment of blinking, his friend finally sat up, rubbing his head.

"Did you get hurt?" Jekyll asked, concerned.

"...No. I don't think so." Robert stood up and brushed himself off, a flicker of disgust on his face as he saw the dust that had gotten onto his clothes. "What on Earth are you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be resting."

"I needed to know what day it is."

"What? Why-? Oh, for the love of God, this isn't about the exhibition _again_ is it?"

Jekyll stayed silent. Robert groaned.

"It doesn't matter, Henry. You're in no state to participate. What happens, happens."

"But I feel much better now! And the society won't survive if the exhibition goes badly."

Lanyon hesitated. He opened his mouth as if to speak then, thoughtfully, closed it again. When Robert finally chose to speak, the uncertainly was clear in his voice. "To be perfectly honest, the lodgers seem to be doing pretty well on their own. I'm not sure exactly what changed but they've all gone back to working on the exhibition. I can only assume that, after all the excitement of the explosion, they've lost interest in this rebellion of theirs. For now, at least."

Henry was startled by the revelation.

_“Don’t worry, Jekyll. We’ll make sure the exhibition works out so please stop pushing yourself. For everyone’s sake?”_

...Those three... Had they..?

But the three of them couldn't have turned around every lodger in the society in such a short amount of time, could they?

His eyes drifted to the sleeping Frankenstein across the room from him. Her chest moved up and down slightly, the only sign that there was life in that bundle of bedsheets.

Nah, couldn't be. He shook off the crazy theory. Clearly the trio were better leaders than he expected.

Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to Lanyon.

With the exhibition dealt with, there was one more thing he needed to bring up to Lanyon. He just wasn't quite sure how to breach the subject.

 _I still can't believe you told elephant nose over there._ Hyde muttered. _You raisin-brained twit._

Henry ignored Hyde's strange ramblings and picked out a good place to start.

"Listen, Lanyon." As he spoke, he found that he couldn't quite meet Lanyon's eyes. "I have... Vague memories of saying a few things to you and I'm not sure if it was some fever dream or not."

Robert looked at him for a long few seconds. "You might have to get more specific. You said quite a few things to me."

Now, how should he ask without revealing too much? If it was just his imagination, he could end up just spilling his biggest secret to Lanyon by saying too much. But, if he didn’t say enough, Lanyon wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

Jekyll shuffled. "...I think you held my hand."

His friend went quite still for a moment and Henry instantly regretted bringing up _that_ of all things. Lanyon wasn't exactly a touchy-feely person. If he had held Jekyll's hand, he would be embarrassed about it and, if he hadn't...

"You must have dreamt it." Lanyon said at last, briskly, "You need to get back to bed. As a matter of fact, you're being moved-"

The conversation was quickly getting away from him and, in that moment, desperate for information, Henry panicked.

"Wait-! We... We talked about Edward!"

 _You jelly-witted_ **idiot!** _You_ _gibbering_ _, fish-gutted,_ **fucking** _moron!_ _Don’t tell him about_ _ **me!**_

Jekyll could have cursed himself (Although Edward seemed to be doing it for him quite nicely). Lanyon, however, seemed to take much more interest at that.

"...We might have. Why?"

Henry took a deep breath, Hyde's swearing getting louder and more colourful by the second. It was making it difficult to think straight.

"I need to know what I said to you. About Edward."

"Why?" Lanyon was watching Jekyll closely. The look in his eyes almost felt predatory and reminded Henry that Lanyon was very, _very_ desperate for information on Hyde. "What do you think you said to me?"

It had turned, rather alarmingly, into some sort of weird stand-off. Henry knew Lanyon wouldn't tell him anything more until Jekyll said something but he couldn't tell him anything about Hyde – Not without knowing how much Lanyon knew already.

After a while of silence, neither of them willing to talk, Lanyon faltered. There was an unhappy softening of his features, then, with a long, slow exhale, Lanyon looked away.

"You told me you were Edward."

The stand-off broke.

Henry looked up sharply. Lanyon wouldn't meet his eyes and he felt his breath catch painfully in his throat.

With all the delirium, he had suffered problems a lot with reading expressions but, in that moment, his mind was clear. The harsh disappointment and frustration were plain to see on Robert's face even if his inability to meet Jekyll's eye didn't tell him all he needed to know.

For a few moments, he struggled to breathe.

He _had_ told Lanyon.

He had told Lanyon and it was clear that Lanyon wasn't happy about the news.

What should he do? He couldn't think of what to say, how to react, not with Hyde loud in his mind, equally panicked at the news.

His mouth moved as though to say a word but he couldn’t muster the courage to say it aloud. Henry didn’t truly want to know the answer but he had to ask.

"...And..?"

Robert caught Jekyll's eye again, face tense.

"And?" Robert replied quietly, almost disbelieving. He pinched the bridge of his nose and straightened himself, face still twisted unpleasantly, raising his voice back to speaking level. "And Hyde is still the _menace_ who set London on fire. From what I've heard, he's troublesome, uncaring and definitely a bad influence. He _obviously_ can't be-" Robert's words died in his throat, a look of bewilderment crossing his face as he saw Jekyll's expression. "Henry? Why are you-?"

Hyde was too loud in his ears and his chest was far too tight. There were no tears, thankfully, but his eyes burned.

On the bright side, Lanyon seemed to be taking it better than expected. He could still stand to be in a room with him at least, that was better than he ever could have hoped for, but there were stern creases in his expression.

Should he apologize? Would it help or just make it worse?

"I... I can explain." He settled on.

Robert, who was opening his mouth to continue, faltered at that, bewildered.

"What do you mean, 'I can explain'? You were delirious, what is there to explain?"

A rather uncomfortable silence fell over the pair.

Lanyon's puzzled look continued for several more seconds before his eyes widened, a dawning, suspicious horror growing in his expression.

"...Jekyll... What did you..?"

Henry took a step backwards, he wanted to be anywhere but there. He wished he had never brought it up. He wished he was still in bed and this was all some fever dream. He wished he was still delirious enough to excuse his slip of the tongue on his illness.

"Henry, you didn't-"

"What are you two arguing about?"

Jekyll's head whipped around immediately, leaping on the distraction. Frankenstein was sat up in bed, staring at them through the door frame and rubbing her bleary eyes. God, he had never been so thankful to see _Frankenstein_ awake.

"Nothing. I wanted to know when the exhibition was, that was all." He smiled at Lanyon, noting with a flinch that his friend was giving him a rather suspicious look. Lanyon wouldn't try to continue the conversation with Frankenstein watching, would he?

"Again?"

...It sounded like he had asked this question a lot. He didn't really remember doing so.

"Actually-" Robert gave Frankenstein a sickly sweet smile, the kind of sweet that was clearly laced with cyanide, "Dr Jekyll here is moving rooms."

Henry jolted at that. He turned sharply to Lanyon, examining his face for any sign that he was lying.

"See," Robert continued, not seeming to notice Henry's distress, "Archer is fully recovered so the medical room is free. It'll be better than staying in this musty old place, better for his health too." With that, he aimed a nasty look at Frankenstein, "Not to mention, better for his mental health. I can't imagine the sort of stress poor Henry must have been going through with you tormenting him whenever he was awake."

Frankenstein bristled at that, "You really think I would harm him while he's in a state like that?!"

"Why _wouldn't_ _you_ stoop that low? You haven't shown any sign of stopping before."

Dr Jekyll was quite certain that, had Lanyon been closer, Frankenstein would have punched him in the face for that.

He swallowed.

Honestly, he didn't really want to leave knowing he would be sat around doing nothing all day until he recovered. With his injury dropping under detection before, he couldn't imagine them letting him go for weeks and, in all that time, the responsibilities would pile up.

Worse, Lanyon was going to question him harder about Edward now that he had let slip and, alone in the medical room, there would be no-one to save him next time.

"I don't suppose I can stay here? It helps me to-"

"No. I don't care if it 'helps you keep an eye on Frankenstein'. Frankly, it's about time she dropped dead."

Robert's behaviour was a very unnerving reminder of how he was with people he hated.

And he _hated_ Hyde.

Henry shuddered at the idea of being on the receiving end of that hatred. No, he had to do whatever he could to fix that slip of the tongue.

Delirium was, tragically, out of the question. He was clearly thinking well enough at that moment unless he could do something to prove that he was unwell at that time. Doing so, however, would require him to embarrass himself deliberately and he just couldn't bring himself to do so.

At the very least, Hyde's attention had moved onto the fighting taking place, forgetting his insults and swearing. His alter-ego was clearly thrilled at the proceedings – Even if he wasn't fond of Lanyon, he loved arguments.

"Well," Frankenstein sniffed, "I can see where Dr Jekyll gets that stuck-up attitude from. There I was worrying that he turning mad scientists respectable, yet it seems someone did it to him first."

"Being respectable isn't some sort of disease. Just because you seem to relish in hurting everyone around you-"

"I've been around Dr Jekyll for long enough over the past few days to see that he's much more than he lets on. I was wondering why he seemed so ashamed of it." A harsh gaze was turned on Lanyon, "I understand now.” She sniffed. “He's going to prove you wrong, someday. About this respectability of yours."

Jekyll, thinking about that upcoming conversation about Hyde, swallowed nervously. (Although, he was going to admit that something in him warmed up at Frankenstein's words. It was very almost a compliment coming from her.) Robert must have been thinking about Hyde well because he hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to stare suspiciously at Henry.

"Only because he's around such a bad influence," Lanyon said at last, spinning on his heel and grabbing Jekyll's hand, leading him to the door, "Let's go."

"Wait-!" Henry looked desperately for an excuse to stay. His eyes fearfully caught on Frankenstein. She frowned as she saw the wide-eyed fear on his face but then he was gone and there was nothing she could do.

  
  


Thanks to a lot of painkillers and rest, Jekyll barely felt the damage to his back as he was lead away. Despite this, Lanyon still kept a close eye on him, his eyes flicking to his back every once in a while, looking for any spots of fresh blood.

"So... How is my injury anyway?" Henry asked, casually trying to fill the uncomfortable silence between them.

"Well, the external bleeding has stopped and we think the internal bleeding has stopped too but it's difficult to tell. There's probably going to be a scar."

"If it's on my back, it's not like anyone can see it anyway."

Aaaand, the uncomfortable silence was back. The click, click of Lanyon's shoes against the floor was the only response he got.

Robert appeared to be deep in thought. On occasion, his eyes would flick to Jekyll, examining him closely and narrowly, forcing Henry to avert his eyes.

They passed a few lodgers on the way, the lodgers looking up in surprise when they saw Jekyll up and walking. The concern on their faces would have been heart-warming to him had his mind not been preoccupied.

What on Earth was Lanyon thinking? He was still talking to him. He hadn't started yelling but neither had he gone completely silent. Not even a single subtle insult had passed his lips and it bewildered Jekyll. He clearly wasn’t happy with Jekyll and Lanyon wasn’t the type to keep quiet when he disliked people.

Henry squinted hard at him, hoping for some little thing in his expression that would tell him what he was thinking.

There was the bob of Lanyon's Adam apple as he swallowed hard.

"I didn't really get the chance to say this before," Lanyon started abruptly, startling Jekyll and nearly making him trip, "You were either delirious or unconscious but... When I heard... That you'd collapsed... I..."

There was a slight tremor in Lanyon's hands. They were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were beginning to go white.

"A lot of people thought you were going to die. The lodgers were worried about you."

Henry couldn't meet his eye but, then again, neither could Robert.

"Henry, for the love of God, promise me you won't do this again."

"Get involved in an accident?"

 _"Keep quiet about a serious problem."_ Corrected Lanyon, a hard edge to his tone that made Henry wince. "You could have died. If you had passed out in your office or at your own house, what do you think would have happened? You probably would have died."

"...Is this only about the injury?"

Henry wished he could undo what he had just said, to draw a line through the text and rephrase it, but the words were out and Lanyon had definitely heard them. Lanyon didn’t respond to the question.

The door to the medical room was before them and, smartly, Robert pushed the door open and lead Jekyll inside.

It was empty and alone in that room. Even Rachel seemed to be elsewhere at that time.

With a loud click, the door was closed behind them.

"Please sit down." Said Robert, saying it more like a command than a request. Henry reluctantly complied. "Now, I would like you to give me that explanation you promised me."

At that time, even Hyde was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Writing Hyde cursing was fun as hell.  
> On the other hand, I don't know how to write the next scene. At all. 
> 
> This might take a while.


	9. Green Sky at Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel isn't quite clear on the situation but she's sure as hell going to try to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a clue when this fic is supposed to be set. I think it's set before the nightmares start but I feel like I'm going to mess up that timeline somewhat.
> 
> Warnings for some stress related eating issues this chapter.

It was a rather startling sight that Rachel met with that afternoon.

With the intention of checking over Jekyll again, she had headed to the medical room at the earliest that she could. She had been expecting Henry to be grumpy about the move, maybe Robert fussing over him, perhaps even an unexpected visit from a lodger checking up on their injured leader.

She hadn't expected yelling.

It was a little too distant to make out the words and she quickened her step, her heartbeat quickening in turn. Whatever was going on, it sounded heated and she was already worried, particularly as the two voices yelling sounded suspiciously like Jekyll and Lanyon, aka, the two gentlemen of the society and the two least likely people in the building to yell at anyone.

Just as she arrived, the door shot open with a resounding bang and Lanyon stormed out of the medical room right in front of her. For a moment, she saw the fists clenched so tight that the knuckles went white and the trembling hunch of his posture and her first thought was: _he's angry. He's very,_ **very** _angry._

Then she saw his face.

There was a sickly ashen hue to his cheeks, his eyes wide enough to see the whites all around and staring off in a dazed manner.

No, not quite angry, although she could still faintly read traces of rage buried under that expression.

He was _scared._

She couldn't imagine what could have happened in there to have shaken him up so badly. Sure, Lanyon was rather jumpy at times but this was something else entirely, less of a skittish terror and more of a numb shock. It was out of place for him and it made her skin crawl.

For a few moments, he simply stood there in a fear-induced haze, shaking like a leaf. Then, he blinked and his eyes finally met hers as though he had just realized she was there.

The seconds trickled by and it took almost a full minute before Rachel, too bewildered to register the change in focus, realized that she should say something. Her throat was a little dry and she wet her lips before nervously starting.

"...Um, Robert..? What's wrong, what happened?"

She was bursting with many more questions but she held her tongue. That expression gave her the creeps and it didn't feel like the time to push too hard.

Lanyon just stared at her for a while, studying her face closely. Uncertainty clouded his features.

When he finally spoke, he was stumbling and hesitant. "I'll... Tell you later." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes flicking about rapidly. "Yes, I… _need_ to tell you later, this is important. I... I just need some time to process."

He took a few more steps, paused and looked back for a second. It looked like he still had more to say but, after a second, he merely shook his head and turned back around.

"Helpless baby bird, _indeed_." He muttered sourly to himself and, finally, marched off.

Almost afraid of what she was about to see, Rachel cautiously peeked into the medical room.

Henry sat on the bed, pale and shaking with that same distant look that Lanyon had had.

Slowly, Rachel approached him, her gut tightening. Seriously, what on Earth had she missed?!

It took all of her self-restraint to not ask (Lanyon had promised to tell her later, after all) so she silently checked Jekyll's health, replacing bandages and examining the injury for any new signs of infection or damage.

The injury seemed to be healing over in a strange way, the obvious signs of scarring tissue beginning to show themselves. She peered closely at the puckering, pinkish skin growing over the hole, one last check for any filth or puss. A finger traced lightly over the bump, feeling for any tell-tale heat of an infection, although, admittedly, she was partially just curious to touch the scarring tissue. It was just as smooth as it looked and, thankfully, not warm.

It hadn't healed completely just yet. There was still a hole in the centre of the healing skin, roughly scabbed over in a russet brown. An ugly looking thing, a misshapen trench in his back, and, even when completely healed, it would continue to look ugly. Considering it was on his back, though, she didn't think Henry would mind. Very few people would ever see that patch on his back and even Henry himself couldn't see it.

In a morbid way, it was perfect for him. A wound that he didn't have to look at and that nobody else would see.

"Rachel?"

Rachel jumped, startled and a little embarrassed. Henry was looking at her. A bit of colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked, thankfully, much less distant. Instead, a troubled, thoughtful expression had settled on his features.

"Um, yes?" She responded, haltingly.

She felt a little bad for the sudden hope that he would tell her what had happened to shake both himself and Lanyon up so badly. Maybe he would say something about the situation that Lanyon hadn’t.

When Henry spoke again, it was slow and hesitant. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes.

"Uh... I might need to convince Lanyon that he's wrong about something but I don't know how to do it."

"Depends what it is. You're certain he's wrong?"

Henry flinched at that and she silently cursed herself for saying that. After a pause, she opened her mouth to apologize but, before she could, there was a small, sad noise from Henry’s throat, alerting her that he was about to speak.

"I... I'm not sure anymore." He sounded absolutely miserable. "I feel like it should be clear cut. It's like trying to explain to someone who's never seen the sky before that the sky is blue no matter how much they insist it's green. I know I'm right and they're wrong but they can shoot down every argument I have and... I guess... I'm starting to question if the sky is, in fact, green and I've been wrong all my life."

Rachel gave him a strange look.

"That... That wasn't what the actual argument was about." Henry explained quickly. "The sky is blue."

"Oh thank God. I wouldn't want to have that conversation with Lanyon."

She was joking around but Henry didn't seem to respond.

An awkward silence fell.

Once again, she wished she knew what was going on, at least so she could comfort Henry. She couldn't even tell Henry that he _was_ right because she didn't know what he was troubled about. The words would just sound hollow.

It didn't stop her trying, however.

"I'm sure you're the one in the right. Lanyon will come around eventually."

Henry just cocked an eyebrow at her. She pulled a face in return.

"Look, I had to say something.” A huff. “Can't you just tell me what's going on? Maybe then I could give you some actual advice."

"Telling Lanyon about what's going on was exactly what got me into this mess to begin with." Was the dry response. "I wish I could take it back."

Rachel hummed thoughtfully. "Pretend you were delirious again?"

"I think I'm way too deep in for that now.” He crossed his legs. “And I can't play it off as a joke either. He knows I wouldn't pull a joke in such poor taste."

"And you can't prove to him that he's wrong? Take him outside and show him that the sky is blue? Metaphorically speaking."

A shake of the head. For a second, he stared into his lap.

Rachel sighed. She looked one last time at the scar tissue on his back then, with care, began to rewrap it. To take her mind off things, she hummed under her breath as she worked. Henry just remained silent, occasionally flinching when she brushed a little too close to the unhealed skin.

"...Erasing memories, huh..?"

It was spoken under the breath, a little self musing that Rachel didn't think Henry had intended for her to hear. Perplexed, she glanced over at him, wondering exactly what was going on in that head of his.

Surprisingly, he didn’t stop there. Just when she thought the strange muttering would remain a mystery, he raised his voice.

"Hey Rachel? Do you know if there's anything in the society that can erase memories?"

She froze.

_"...Now hang on just a second."_

She spun to face him, hands on her hips. "I don't know what all of this is about but you are not just using some invention to just _erase_ the problem. You are _not_ just ignoring a problem again, you understand? Not after what happened last time. You and Lanyon are talking this out, like it or not."

Henry looked a tad sheepish.

"... _Do_ we have anything like that?” He asked innocently, “A machine that can manipulate memories in any way?"

_"No."_

"...How can you be sure?" Came the jokey response.

"Because nobody in the society specializes in that sort of thing _and_ nobody here can shut up about what they're working on or what they're interested in."

Henry blinked slowly, owlishly. "...Good... Point..."

There was a flicker of conflicting emotions on his face that she couldn't read. The last of the bandages were wrapped and she sat back to examine her handy work. With a satisfied nod, she stood, brushing off her dress.

"...We were talking about Hyde."

"Huh?"

Rachel turned to look at Henry again. He still wasn’t looking her in the eyes, instead preferring to twiddle with his buttons as though they had suddenly become the most interesting things on the face of planet Earth.

"The argument. It was about Hyde."

"Ah."

Well that was a topic that was sensitive with Lanyon. The argument was starting to make a bit more sense. (Although, it only made her more curious overall.)

"I don't suppose that helps you give me any advice on it?" He continued hopefully.

"Uh... Not really." She paused a second. Something had just occurred to her and it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. "...Actually, Lanyon told me he was going to tell me what happened between you two."

Henry's head shot up, his skin rapidly going stark white. "He wouldn't- Oh God, he would, wouldn't he?" His eyes shot to look at her, full in the face, examining her expression as though there was some way she was lying. "Rachel, please don't!"

"I..."

...She... She _was_ very curious. _And,_ with the way Lanyon had been acting, it had felt pretty urgent.

On the other hand, Jekyll looked so horrified at the idea that it felt like a breach of his trust.

"...Lanyon said it was important."

"He's wrong. Rachel, you have to believe me. Robert is _wrong_ about me and I can't- I don't want him to tell you these things, I can't let you see me in that way, I can't lose you too!"

It sounded a tad overdramatic in her opinion. Lose her? Surely he knew her better than that – she wasn't leaving him no matter what.

"It's... I..." A hard and painful little ball of anxiety was forming in her stomach. "W-well, if you told me your side of things..."

Henry was trembling again.

"Henry, not talking about things is how your injury got so bad to start with." She pleaded, "And I don't think this is going to fix itself either. You know that I trust you, right? Nothing you could say would damage the way I see you."

A small burst of hysterical laughter. "Want to bet?"

"Henry..."

"Rachel, please. Whatever you do, don't let Lanyon tell you anything. I'll clear things up between the two of us, I swear, I just need time to think about what I'm going to tell him. _Please._ "

"...I... I can't promise anything."

Henry flinched.

"But I'll try." She finished hurriedly, wincing at the expression on his face, "I'll give the pair of you some time to work things out but, if things aren't resolved quickly, I'm going to intervene. I'm not letting you get hurt because of your secrecy again."

He nodded, almost a bit too fast. "I'll figure this out, I promise."

Rachel's stomach twisted to see the relief on his face. Soon she would have to explain to Lanyon that she couldn't hear him out and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Betray Henry or betray Robert.

It wasn't the nicest of decisions to have to make.

  
  


Henry wanted to throw up. His stomach churned unpleasantly and the back of his throat felt thick, as though bile was already trying to force its way up and out.

He wanted to beg Rachel more, to make her absolutely swear to ignore Robert, wanted to follow her about the society so she couldn't talk to Robert under his nose.

Instead, he watched helplessly as she left, clearly just as troubled as he was.

She had left some food for him on a nearby table – Two ham sandwiches. It nothing too big or obtrusive, nothing that he shouldn’t have been able to swallow, especially considering how little he had eaten lately (It wasn’t easy to eat while you’re unconscious). The way things were, Jekyll should have been _starving_.

Despite this, there was no way in hell he could eat it without puking and just looking at it made him feel sick. With little hesitation, he stood up and threw it straight in the trash.

Even out of sight, his mind tormented him of images of him trying to eat, the thick feeling in his throat of him trying to force food down it, images of what the food looked like now, buried in trash, old papers and bloody bandages.

Unable to hold it back any longer, he gagged, right over the bin he had just ditched his food into. Nothing came out but there was a blunt pain in his throat at the motion and a horrible, strangled noise. The noise felt too loud to him and he worried someone would walk in to see him dryly retching over his untouched dinner. He didn't want to explain that it wasn't any infection or illness resurfacing from his wounds but simple anxiety and he especially didn't want someone to force him to eat "because he needed to regain his strength and refusing to eat would only make him worse. Blah, blah, blah." That kind of nonsense.

Breathing deeply in a futile attempt to calm himself, he stared in the bin, focusing on the shape and texture of the papers and bandages in there (Deliberately ignoring the separated slices of bread, deliberately ignoring the look and smell of the ham slices that had fallen out and folded upon themselves, ignoring imagining that gunk being swallowed and settling in his writhing, bucking stomach. Ignoring the bile in his throat and the way the oesophagus felt tight and full. Ignoring the tickle at the back of his throat like something was sliding down there, making his eyes water with the effort not to retch again. Ignoring, ignoring, _ignoring-_ ) in an attempt to think of anything other than Lanyon and Rachel.

_"So... You said you were Edward Hyde. And then you said you could explain."_

Why had he tried to explain? Why didn't he just refuse? Sure, it would have been suspicious but it would have been better. He wouldn't have dug himself into some stupid pit with his own stupid, _stupid_ words.

 _"Ok, Robert. Don't freak out... But Edward Hyde might be the separated_ _evil half of my soul."_

Now he needed an excuse, something that would convince Robert that he was wrong. _Before_ Rachel chose to intervene, before Robert told her everything and she came to see him in that way as well. They would see him as some kind of madman. They could decide between each other to send him to the asylum. With Moreau. The other dangerous mad scientist.

His eyes squeezed shut and he shook his head vigorously to clear it.

Amusingly, he could thank Hyde for his constant mockery and manipulation over the years. Dealing with those exact things for so long was what made it easier to ignore what Lanyon had said. Henry had to believe that he, himself, was in the right and he wasn't backing down from that conviction until he absolutely had to. Henry may have been unable to prove himself to Robert but, in turn, Robert had no solid evidence of his own claims.

Rachel may not have known it but she _had_ actually given him something to work with. It was small but it was a start. He needed more though. One couldn't go into a debate with only a single argument, after all – If Robert had a comeback, he would be doomed.

 _"I know one way you could disprove him."_ Hyde chirped in the back of his head.

"We're not doing that."

 _"Oh come on! If you let me out, I can prove Lanyon wrong to his face."_ Edward innocently fluttered his eyelashes. " _Shouldn't_ **I** _have a chance to defend myself?"_

"Because you're not going to defend yourself, you're going to sprint out the door and get yourself arrested."

_"You don't know that for sure."_

"I'm _you_ , you moron! Of course I know what you're going to do because I would do the same if I didn't have to deal with this!"

_"And how is 'dealing with this' going so far, huh?"_

A moment of grouchy silence from Henry. Hyde crowed his victory.

Dr Jekyll hadn't given up though. An idea was forming in his head. It was stupid and crazy but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Quietly, to himself, he voiced his idea.

"...But, if I could find a way to restrain you somehow..."

_"Now hang on a second-!"_

Henry was getting to his feet already, ignoring any prior instructions to stay put.

_"Are you leaving? We're not allowed to leave!"_

"Since when did _you_ care about rules?" Henry shrugged on a coat, "I'm going to find my research notes. And, hopefully, some rope."

Hyde shrieked in fury as Henry slipped out the door quietly.

Henry didn't listen though. Nothing Hyde could say would ever be louder than the sound of Robert's remembered voice in his head, cooing gently in his ear. It had been intended as gentle and caring but it his memories twisted it into a taunting lilt.

_"Oh Henry... You really are deep in this, aren't you?"_

Robert may have been wrong about a lot of things but Henry couldn't deny, he hadn't been wrong about that.

  
  


It was quite safe to say that Rachel was not happy.

Part of her regretted not pushing Henry further about the Robert Lanyon situation. She still perfectly remembered the moment when she had first been told about his injury.

At the time, she had been treating Archer. She had been stressed and still exhausted from dealing with all the other numerous injuries, scrapes and infections across the society.

That was when Lavender and Griffin had burst in, startling her. She had spun around to reprimand them for coming in without knocking, an act that could have easily screwed up some delicate procedure if they had come in at another time.

Then her eyes landed on the person between them and her protests dried up in her throat.

A slender arm drooped from the figure who was being propped up by the pair like an oversized ragdoll. It nearly trailed on the floor, the skin pale and the bones far too pronounced to be healthy. What was far, _far_ more alarming, however, was the drooling strings of blood that ran down it, dripping from the fingers. It was so vibrant against that white skin. A deep shade of crimson that she had seen far too often over the past few days and wished she would never have to see again.

Brown locks of hair hung limply over a face, glistening with sweat. She could hear breathing faintly from that haphazard form, very shallow breathing. There was very little movement or sound from the body, the faint whisper of breathing the only sign that they weren’t dead. Whoever they were, they were out cold.

"I... I thought nobody was going to mess around any more!" Her voice came out a little shriller than she would have liked, a little too snappish, but she couldn't help it. It felt like every time she thought things had settled, someone else would climb on something they shouldn't or reveal some infected cut that they had been hiding. She was exhausted and she just wanted the others to start behaving properly for five seconds. "After what happened to Archer, I thought everyone here had learned not to play about!"

"I'm not sure that's what happened, Rachel." Lavender said softly. She moved slightly as she spoke and the head lolled. The hair that wasn't plastered against wet skin dangled down, revealing the face of the victim.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

"H... How..?"

Her question faded as quickly as it formed. She knew how. She _knew_ how.

Nobody had treated Jekyll since the explosion, nobody but himself. She had trusted him to treat himself properly, or at least tell someone if it was too bad, and he hadn't. Her fingers clenched until the nails bit into her palms.

"Can't you do something?" Griffin asked in his usual snarky tone.

"I..." She glanced at Archer. She couldn't treat them both, not properly. "Do you know where Lanyon is?"

A bewildered pause from the other two.

"He's a doctor." Rachel sighed, pinching her nose, "He has doctor literally in the title. Look, just because someone isn't a mad scientist doesn’t mean they don’t know science. Or medicine."

Understanding sparked in both of their eyes and Rachel, despite the situation, sighed. It was like reminding children that “mum” wasn’t actually their mother’s real name.

“I’ll get him.”

Griffin was a little too quick to run out the door, suddenly dumping the entire weight of Jekyll's body (Not corpse, not yet, don't worry, just breathe Rachel, breathe) into Lavender's arms. She tottered a bit under the added weight and Rachel hurried forward to help grab him before he fell.

She had thought holding him would be a struggle even between the two of them. However, he was rather unexpectedly light.

The pair shifted him to a chair, sitting him down as best as they could with his body so unresponsive. It was like trying to place down a sack of tomatoes, except, in this situation, the sack had arms and legs and every time they tried to put him down, a dangling arm would fall beneath him and they would almost sit him down on top of it.

His final resting spot was a little haphazard, his arms and legs splayed out at strange angles and his butt a little too far forward on the chair. The position would have been rather comical in any other situation. In fact, something about the severity of the situation made it more amusing in comparison to see such a sight. In a bit of sleep-deprived hysteria, Rachel giggled. Lavender glanced at her, a little shocked. Then she looked at the sad tomato sack before them and stifled her own hysterical laugh.

"So," Rachel wiped a tear away from her eyes, "What's wrong with him?"

Lavender explained what she had found out and what had happened, including Frankenstein supposedly being the first to alert her to the situation. Rachel found that interesting.

"Maybe Frankenstein knows more about it." She mused.

Lavender looked at her.

"I think..." Rachel had said slowly, "We might need to ask her."

  
  


Present day Rachel shook herself out of her memories and looked around.

The society was looking a lot better since the explosion. Strangely, better than it had been doing _before_.

A few stray lodgers hurried from place to place, either cleaning the last of the rubble from the explosion or carrying boxes and boxes of scientific equipment to prepare for the exhibition. Jekyll would probably be disappointed that he was going to miss the event but, at least, it didn't seem like his help was needed.

Her eyes caught on Jasper. The werewolf was currently following after Helsby who seemed to be carrying Jasper's stuff for him. Jasper was complaining mildly that he didn't need the help but Helsby was insistent.

Seeing the scene, her spirits rose a little. Jasper had been confining himself to his room so much that it was good to see him being forced to socialise. Hopefully it would bring him out of his shell a bit more.

He certainly seemed a lot more comfortable around Helsby than he had been before the explosion.

She smiled.

Then she saw another figure and the smile dropped straight off her face.

Robert was weaving between lodgers. His skin had taken on a more healthy looking colour and the twitching, stunned horror that had hung over his features earlier had cleared into a far more thoughtful, if worried, expression.

His eyes were fixed quite determinedly on the floor and he walked with quick, powerful strides. He was a man on a mission. Rachel just wished she could ask what mission.

As Helsby and Jasper passed him, he looked up.

"Hey, um... You." He addressed Helsby.

"Helsby." Helsby introduced, seemingly unperturbed by Lanyon's inability to remember his name.

"Right, right... I don't suppose you've seen Rachel, have you?"

Suddenly, Rachel didn't want to know the mission. She turned to leave.

"Well, if you looked up for five seconds, you would see she was right over there."

She quickened her step.

"Rachel? Rachel!"

Nope. No. She was not choosing between Lanyon and Jekyll, no thank you. She hadn't heard Lanyon and she was just leaving and what a _shame_ it was that she had only just missed him. Oh well, he would just have to tell her that super important thing later. Much later. Several days later.

A hand on her shoulder.

"Rachel!"

She sucked a sharp breath between her teeth.

Welp. She had tried at least. Surely Henry couldn't fault her for that?

As she expected, when she turned Robert was stood there. He looked a little surprised that she had tried to escape, an expression that made him look a bit like a kicked dog. There was a twinge of guilt in her chest at seeing it.

"Remember how I needed to tell you something?" He asked, the expression on his face far too earnest to make her job easy, "I've given it some thought and I think I'm ready to tell you about it. In private."

"Um... About that…"

Robert glanced at her, somewhat bewildered.

"...I... Uh...” Moment of truth. Great. Go Rachel. “I promised Henry that I would stay out of this. Whatever's going on between the two of you, I mean."

If Robert had gotten angry, it would have been easier. If he hadn't been so sincere and confused and worried she could have walked away easily. If it was anything other than both of her friends, one of which was currently badly physically hurt and confined to a bed, it would have been easier.

It was not easier.

"Rachel. This is important, _really_ important. I get that Henry might have told you some things but..." He paused and glanced about, checking that nobody was close by before lowering his voice and speaking, "I... I don’t think Henry can be trusted to make that sort of decision. And he might be in trouble. A lot of it."

Heaven above, help her. This was exactly what she had been worried about. But she had promised Henry that she would stay out...

"Please, Rachel. I need someone else to talk to and you're the only person I can trust with this. I need advice. For Henry's sake."

"I... I told him I would wait a few days and if this isn't resolved by then, I would listen to you. Can it wait?"

Robert wavered. Aha! It wasn't urgent! She dug her guilt-racked fingers into that handhold in a desperate attempt to alleviate the overwhelming awful feeling inside her.

"...I don't know, Rachel." He replied quietly. "I don't know if it can wait or not. Any day now, he could-" An abrupt cut off, seemingly remembering that they weren't in private yet. His eyes flicked about for a moment before they fixed back on her, the urgency on his face stronger than ever. "I don't want to take that risk, Rachel, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to either."

She shifted uneasily.

...Well...

...Henry didn't have to know.

If she kept quiet and simply fed Robert advice, Henry wouldn't need to know that she had broken her promise.

In her mind's eye, she could still his desperate expression as he begged her. The shock and terror on his face.

Then, in the same moment, she remembered that exact same horror on Robert's face.

Something big was going on here and she didn't think she could afford to stay neutral. For Henry's sake.

"Well, so long as you don't tell Jekyll." She said jokily.

Robert hesitated, clearly not quite in the mood for humour.

"I won't tell if you don't."

It was very half-hearted but she appreciated that he had tried.

The pair slipped away together to go somewhere private.

  
  


Henry, who had been hiding behind a couch to avoid getting caught outside of his room, watched them leave.

His blood ran cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel: Making my way downtown, walking fast.  
> Robert: Hey, have you seen Rachel?  
> Rachel: _Walking faster_
> 
> I struggled with this chapter for quite a while until I realized that I didn't have to actually show Jekyll and Lanyon's talk just yet.  
> I could just ignore it like I ignore all my problems.  
> Most of their talk is actually written up already but I was stumped by the whole "Ok, what next" situation since this is a sick fic. I don't want ten more chapters of Lanyon and Jekyll work out the problem child that is Hyde when the focus is supposed to be Jekyll's injury.  
> I'm still trying to think of how to avoid this without a really unsatifying or abrupt ending.  
> Shifting events around doesn't exactly fix the problem but it made it far easier for me to continue to write. Part of me is hesitant to post it like this because the mystery seems kind of unnecessary and it probably reduces any emotional impact in this chapter but, if I don't do something to reframe it, I'm never going to finish this.
> 
> Heavens knows when this'll update again, though.


	10. Tuning the Cuckoo Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with his friends' disbelief, Henry is forced to make a rash decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter for gaslighting and more blood.

_The room was too brightly lit for a place with white walls and floors._ _It stung Jekyll’s eyes wherever he looked,_ _the puddles of dried blood on the floor being the only respite his eyes could get._ _Presumably, leftovers from Archer’s treatment._

_Lanyon had seated himself across from Jekyll._

_At first glance, his expression was hard and unrelenting. Jekyll,_ _however,_ _knew his friend better than that. It was the slightest creasing around the eyes, barely_ _perceptible_ _, that betrayed the inner turmoil his friend was undergoing._

_"So..." Robert crossed his legs, "You said you were Edward Hyde. And then you said you could explain."_

_It was horribly quiet in the room. Robert's voice was clear and loud in the silence._

_The society was usually noisy. Yelling here, something blowing up there. Noise, noise, noise._

_Jekyll, who usually slept in his office in the society, had become used to the constant chatter and bustle._

_When it wasn't from inside the society, it was the clatter of hooves outside, it was the cries of the news or the drunken cheering of someone who had drunk too much that night. It was sellers selling wares, it was arguments and singing and meaningless conversations that lead absolutely nowhere but still filled any space where there wasn't noise. When it wasn't people, it was birds, the pitter patter of rain or the scurry of rats in the rafters, it was the crackle of thunder or the buzz of a fly or the tolling of distant church bells or the wails of the mourning. London was never quiet._

_Right now, there was nothing._

_The lodgers were working in their own rooms, the door was closed, and the silence was suffocating._

_Robert's foot began to tap impatiently against the floor._

_"I'm sorry." Henry said, hating how loud his voice sounded._

_Robert readjusted his legs. He tapped his foot a couple more times and, seeing that Jekyll was struggling to continue any further, sighed._

_"Henry, I don't quite understand what's going on between you and Hyde,”_ _He spoke slowly,_ _“but if you're in danger in any way-"_

_"I'm not!" Henry protested. Then, unbidden, he remembered the police that were after him and the way that Edward was constantly pushing to be let out. Probably straight into the grips of the police where he would never be able to change back or escape._

_"I'm not." He repeated, quieter and less certainly._

_Lanyon slowly raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me if I'm not convinced. What did you mean when you said you were Edward Hyde? Is that a metaphor for something?"_

_"Uh... Not... Quite..?"_

_Lanyon's eyebrow raised higher. Henry started to explain._

  
  


Henry slipped through the halls of the society.

It was much easier to dodge people now that he wasn't stumbling and delirious. Even so, there were several instances where he pressed himself against a wall or piece of furniture as someone passed within his line of sight.

As he did so, he stared on, his heart thudding with the knowledge that just a slight turn of the head to the left or to the right could get him caught. Then he would be forced back to bed, forced to try again another day.

But he didn't _have_ another day.

He had known. He knew that Rachel wouldn't let it lie and he knew that Lanyon just wouldn't keep quiet. After all, his friends thought they were doing the right thing.

He needed his evidence and he needed it now. Even if that meant releasing Hyde again.

It would seem strange, tying himself up to talk with Lanyon but, once the proof was indisputable, it wouldn't matter. Besides, what did he have to lose?

Rachel and Lanyon thinking he was crazy?

Too late for that.

 _"I can't believe you're_ _planning_ _to tie me up."_ Hyde grumbled. _"Listen, they both think you're crazy and that's a shame,_ _t_ _herefore, you should let me out. Untied, I mean. Your reputation will be in shambles anyway so you might as well hand over the reigns to me. At least then we can have some fun."_

"No." He hissed. "I can prove I'm not."

_"You're talking to yourself."_

"You know what I mean. I'm not crazy in the way Lanyon thinks I am."

_"And how do you know that for sure?"_

Hyde's voice coiled in his skull, the scaly body of his words rasping against his skull in a taunting whisper. It was meant as a jibe, Hyde's classic mockery, but it hit far harder than usual on this occasion.

"Do you want me to believe Lanyon?" Jekyll asked, his voice a little louder and sharper than he intended. "Is that what you want? Well, I guess there's no point letting you out ever again because you're just-!"

"Dr Jekyll?"

Henry's head shot up.

Ito had turned the corner, clearly curious after hearing him talking. To himself.

"Who were you-? Wait, are you allowed to be out of bed?"

For a moment, Henry just stared at her.

Then he sprinted away.

Distantly, Ito yelled behind him but Henry was already gone.

Time was trickling through his fingers and he needed to do something. Fast.

  
  


  
  


_Robert frowned at his friend. He was already, honestly, quite lost._

_For a while now, he had been trying to figure out what Jekyll had meant when he had said those things. Obviously, it couldn't be literal, that was preposterous. So, whatever this was, it had something to do with Hyde and why Jekyll had been so protective of him._

_Henry was clearly reluctant to talk. He wouldn't stop fiddling with things, running his fingers along his buttons, seemingly without_ _even_ _noticing._

_"Um... Ok, so, I had a... Theory of sorts?" Henry laughed nervously. "It's kind of a stupid theory but, essentially, I thought that the human soul was composed of two parts, good and evil."_

_He looked up at Robert, examining his friend's expression with a look of anxiousness that was clear to see._

_Robert tried to keep his face as straight as possible._ _It was obvious he had failed_ _by the way Henry quickly looked away, wringing his hands._

 _This was already a rather_ _peculiar_ _start to the tale. A tale which was supposed to be about his assistant, not some oddball theory on the human soul_ _and science_ _._

 _In his mind, his memories drifted unbidden back to the play they had seen on Frankenstein._ _The over-the-top mad science, the suffering of the scientist and everyone around them, the destruction and chaos._

_The way Frankenstein had died in the story._

_He shook off this unwelcome thought. Henry was continuing to speak and he had to pay attention to that, not some fictional play._

_"I thought that, if one were to, say,_ _separate_ _these two elements, then they could each go their own way, unimpeded by the other."_

_Another look at Lanyon. Lanyon raised an eyebrow, inviting his friend to continue further. There was a twitch in Henry's facial features as though he was frustrated that Lanyon hadn't caught on yet._

Hey, it's not my fault. _He thought,_ I don't see what on Earth this has to do with Hyde.

_"I... I created a potion. One that I hoped would do as such." A pause. "And I used it on myself."_

_Lanyon leapt to his feet at that, staring wide-eyed at Jekyll. "You made sure it was safe first, right?"_

_The silent response was all Lanyon needed to know the answer._

_"For God's sake, Henry-!"_

_"It turned out alright in the end! Uh... Kind of."_

_"KIND OF?!"_

_"Ok, Robert. Don't freak out... But Edward Hyde might_ _be the_ _separated_ _evil half of my soul..."_

 _"_ **Might** _be?!"_

_"Is. Definitely. I don't know why I said 'might be.'" Jekyll readjusted his cravat nervously, unable to meet Lanyon's eye._

  
  


Robert checked outside to make sure that the coast was clear. Then, with a small click, he shut the door.

He and Rachel had found an empty room in a quieter corner of the society to disappear into and, at that moment, they were alone.

With how gossipy the lodgers were, they would probably think the pair of them were in a relationship if they saw them doing this. Robert, however, had other concerns on his mind.

Part of him wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about this.

His hands were still rested against the cool metal of the door handle and, although they should have been still, they trembled slightly. For a moment, he just stared at them.

They were his hands, his _own_ hands, not anyone else's. He would never have to look down and see someone else's hands there. Even if he couldn't stop them shaking at that moment, he would never have to fear them moving or acting on their own, never have to fear losing control of his own body.

 _Christ_ , how scared must Henry have been all this time? Believing that some... _Creature_ lived inside of him? Some creature that could seize control of his body and do all these terrible things?

To think that all this time, Henry must have been so petrified and Robert hadn’t had a clue. What sort of friend was he?

"Um... Lanyon?"

Robert jumped with a rather undignified squawk and spun around. He had forgotten that Rachel was right there.

"You still seem a little jumpy. Are you sure we can't leave this another day? Clearly neither you or Henry are thinking straight right about now and, if you talked it out together, maybe you could sort it out?"

He shook his head vehemently.

"Do... Do you even _want_ to talk about it right now?"

"It doesn't matter. I have to." Robert took a steadying breath. "For Henry's sake."

At last, he turned to face her, smoothing down the crinkles on his clothes. "You might want to sit down for this."

Obediently, Rachel took a seat.

Feeling a little light on his feet, Robert hesitated, then sat down heavily next to her. She gave him a concerned look.

Wishing he had some alcohol to drink, he began to, as faithfully as he could, recount what Jekyll had told him, watching Rachel's expression as closely as possible as he did so, gauging her reactions.

Rachel's face started off looking anxious. Then, it became perplexed. The perplexion deepened.

_She's just as confused as I was when Henry told me this story. Good. I wasn't stupid for not catching onto his meaning._

When he swallowed, his throat was sandpaper dry – rough and unpleasant.

"...So... What exactly are you getting at?" Rachel asked, not quite getting the point that Robert was driving at.

Robert gave one last look at her face. Then, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Henry claimed that he _was_ Edward Hyde. The entire time."

Although he wasn't looking at her face, he saw Rachel's hands move up over her mouth in shock.

"I think you understand now why I had to tell you this as soon as possible."

"I... Doctor Jay was..?" Her voice was faint.

Robert nodded solemnly, pressing his hands together. He inhaled deeply, thankful and simultaneously anxious to finally have the truth out. He wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore.

"Hyde is gaslighting him." He spat out with all the hate he could muster.

"Wait, what?"

At last, Robert looked back up at Rachel.

He had thought the conclusion was obvious.

After all, what a ridiculous notion it was. One man somehow being another? When neither of them were alike in the least?

Despite this, Rachel seemed completely and utterly bewildered by his statement.

"Hang on a second," Rachel pulled a face at him, "Where's your evidence of this?"

"E-evidence?!" Robert spluttered, "Evidence?! Rachel, this couldn't be a more preposterous story! Henry couldn't hurt a fly and Hyde literally set London on fire and laughed about it! You couldn't get further opposites! Do you really think that Henry and Hyde are the same person?!"

"Well. It's certainly unusual-"

"Impossible, more like."

"-But Edward likes to act worse than he actually is. I'm not even sure if he's smart enough to gaslight Henry."

"He's not smart enough to _be_ Henry."

She opened her mouth to argue then paused. "Touché. It's still not as though you've met Edward before."

"I've heard stories."

"Right. From the lodgers – the local gossips. They over-exaggerate everything. If you had just met Hyde properly, I'm sure you-"

"-Would be able to believe that he's Henry?"

A silence from Rachel.

"Rachel, don't forget what this conversation is about. Henry is clearly delusional and I'm worried that Hyde is taking advantage of that."

"...I would like to talk about this with Henry." She sat back, staring at the door. "As I said, it's a strange story but... It might be possible."

"Not you too, Rachel. Henry clearly needs help, before this goes too far. I get that you're close to Hyde but surely even you can see that this shouldn't be encouraged."

"I just need to hear both sides of the story. So I can make a decision."

Robert's mouth was a hard line.

"Please? Surely you don't _want_ to believe that Henry's delusional?"

"What's the alternative?" Robert asked quietly. "Henry's delusional in a different way?"

Rachel shrugged. "I won't know until I ask." She stood up, brushing herself off and heading for the door. "He at least deserves a chance to explain himself."

With a huff, Robert opened his mouth, preparing a tirade of protests for everything she just said.

He was cut short, however, when the door burst open with a resounding bang and, from the corridor outside, Ito ran in.

When she saw them, she blinked, a little surprised.

"I haven't walked in on anything, have I?" She asked slowly.

"No. We were just finished here." Robert sighed and stood, dusting himself off.

Fine, let Rachel talk to Jekyll. She would realize in time how impossible the idea was. Hopefully sooner rather than later, who knew what Hyde was planning next?

"Miss Ito? Is everything ok? You're not usually so flustered." Rachel noted with a frown.

"It's Dr Jekyll. He's out of his room again."

Rachel and Robert looked at each other with mirrored expressions of dawning horror.

"Where is he?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know. I lost sight of him."

Robert’s mind quickly went through the options. He knew Jekyll better than anyone else. Where would Jekyll go right now? Well, given the circumstances, that was surprisingly obvious.

In silence, Robert turned and strode towards the door and the pair looked over at him.

"Dr Lanyon?"

"I think I know where he went."

  
  


  
  


_There was a long silence._

_Damn the silence. He had heard phrases in stories like 'The silence was deafening' before but he had always taken it as a turn of phrase. In this scenario, however, the silence was so loud it was unbearable._

_Lanyon wasn't responding. Sooner or later, he would have to gather the courage to look up, to see what terrible expression might be on Lanyon's face at the news_ _and_ _Henry certainly didn't want to look._

_He adjusted his cravat again._

_"That-" Began Lanyon, startling Jekyll to the point that he yanked on the cravat and pulled it too tight by mistake. Henry hurriedly fixed his cravat as Robert continued to speak. "-Is absolutely ridiculous. Henry, you can't be two people. That's crazy even for most of the lodgers here and they're actual mad scientists."_

_Henry choked, quickly undoing the cravat until he could breathe and, more importantly, speak again._

_"It's the truth! I_ am _Edward Hyde!"_

 _"See, this is exactly why you needed to move rooms. With all this_ _delirium_ _of yours, Frankenstein has been putting weird thoughts in your head and you're clearly not in the proper state to tell fact from fiction."_

_"I'm thinking clearly right now! You have to believe me!"_

_Wait. Back up a second._ _Why was he trying to convince Lanyon that he was Hyde now?_

_This was perfect, exactly what he had wanted so desperately. He was staring at an out to the situation and yet, for some reason, he wasn't taking it._

_Maybe it was the comment of "Actual mad scientists" that had pushed his buttons the wrong way. Or, perhaps, this was just the first time he had ever had the slimmest chance of telling Lanyon the truth and the overwhelming need to tell someone of what was going on had overtaken his common sense._

_His lips pressed together in a tight, upset line, torn on the inside._

_Logically, he should take this opportunity..._

_"Can you prove it?" Robert asked, crossing his arms with that light smug air of,_ "I know you can't."

_"I... I..."_

_Although his lips were forming the no, he couldn't go through with it. He shook his head, quickly, sharply, then changed his words._

_"I can't. Hyde is wanted by the police and, at the first taste of freedom, he'll be straight out of that door."_

_"For God's sake-! Jekyll, Edward Hyde is a criminal. He burnt down London, remember? Do you genuinely believe you're capable of that? Oh, and all the stories I've heard about him." Lanyon began to count off things on his fingers, "He's violent, short tempered-"_

_"Stop."_

_"-Will apparently sleep with anyone and anything.-"_

_"Stop."_

_"-He's a drunk-"_

_"Please-"_

_"-Foul mouthed-"_

_"Please stop, I-"_

_"-Reckless-"_

_"Lanyon-!"_

_"-Childish idiot and you-"_

_"STOP!"_

_"...are nothing like him."_

_Lanyon finished his tirade. Although he had spoken, for the most part, with determined certainty, his final words were a little more uncertain and trailing after Henry's outburst._

_Henry took a struggling breath, noticing that his eyesight was worryingly blurry._ _Shakily, he raised a hand to his eyes._

_They came away wet._

_"Oh Henry..." Robert's voice softened, "You really are deep in this, aren't you?"_

_Jekyll was struggling to breathe. His throat had gotten smaller, he was sure of it._

_"...Is... Is this what's been bothering you all this time? You somehow believe that you're to blame for the fire?" Robert let out a hissing breath between his teeth as realization struck him. "God, that's why you're so protective of Hyde. You've... He's somehow deluded you into believing you and he are the same."_

_"I am to blame for the fire. I... I don't know what I was thinking, I was drunk and I-"_

"Exactly," _Robert crowed, "You don't know what you were thinking because it wasn't you! How on Earth did he manage to convince you of this? Gaslighting? Let me guess, Hyde does bad things while you're_ _conveniently_ _asleep or too drunk to remember what happens? Maybe he leaves evidence behind? Sneaks into your office and leaves a cape on top of you so it looks like you went out without knowing it? And, of course, you start questioning your own reality. Start rationalising what's happening to you as some sort of experiment gone wrong and, as a result, you start protecting Hyde."_

_"I remember what I did as Hyde, it's not gaslighting."_

_"Ok, so it's maybe fancier than I expected but we're still in a society of mad scientists. Who's to say one of them doesn't have a machine that can give someone fake memories that Hyde could have stolen?"_

_"They would have said if something like that went missing. I know every invention in the society, Lanyon, I'm the leader. Nobody has anything like that."_

_A moment._

_Robert took a breath. "Except, if there is a machine like that and it was being used on you, couldn't one erase the memories of that machine?"_

_"This is what we have paperwork for. You're my co-leader, you know we keep track of every experiment in the building."_

_"Paperwork can be tampered with."_

_"What's more likely? I messed up or some random guy pulled off the world's most overcomplicated conspiracy plot for... What? What could I possibly give him?"_

_"Your protection. And your will."_

_Henry faltered._

_"What?"_

_"I saw your will. In case of your death or disappearance, everything you own goes to Edward. Everything."_

_For a moment, he didn’t even know how to react._ _Lanyon_ _had went through his personal documents without his knowledge? Had he gone through anything else in the meantime? How much had Lanyon seen already?_

 _More importantly, Robert_ _of all people had done this? Robert had always seemed so trustworthy and, yet, here he was admitting to going behind his back to snoop through his private matters._

_Surely this had to be a mistake. Maybe he had left his will out by mistake and Robert had just happened to see it._

_"You... Saw my will? When? How?"_

_"I found it." Lanyon shrugged it off. "And I found it very concerning that you would just give everything to Hyde. I've been meaning to bring it up to you for a while but I guess I know all I need to now."_

“Look, doctor, maybe you should just throw in the towel. Lanyon doesn't believe you. Tragic but it works out.” _Hyde whispered._

_Except it wasn't that simple. Lanyon was now convinced he was deluded. He had dug himself into a pit and who knew how Lanyon was going to deal with this perceived gaslighting._

_"I can hear him." Jekyll blurted. "He speaks to me."_

_Lanyon pinched the bridge of his nose, "He-"_

_"Right now. He's speaking to me Right. Now. No stupid invention."_

  
  


Jekyll tore through his own office, opening cupboards without shutting them, pulling out draws and sheets of paper, grabbing anything and everything that could help prove his point. He couldn't know for sure what Robert and Rachel would do with what they knew but he couldn't risk this being his last chance.

There was no rope that he could find but he found books of scrawled notes hidden away in different places, detailing his experiences as Hyde or the initial creation of the potion in question.

The only thing that slowed his rampage was the potion. He paused when he saw it, uncertain.

Of course, that potion could prove everything without a doubt without the need for any papers or documents but, at the same time, it was the most dangerous thing he could do at that moment. Without the rope, bringing out Hyde could be even worse than anything Robert and Rachel could do to him.

 _Could_ be.

Or, it might not be.

Hesitantly, he put down the notebook he had been flicking through and wandered over to it. With one hand, he picked it up and held it to the light.

It was so innocent, so inconspicuous and, yet, it could bring any amount of chaos and trouble if he messed with it.

Ito had seen him. He may have lost her but it was only a matter of time before she found him, probably with half of the society at her heels with the way gossip travelled in the society.

Therefore, he didn't have time to find everything he needed to prove his case and neither could he say for sure that the notes and books in his hands would prove enough.

His eyes drifted back to the potion. It was cool in his hands, the glass smooth and the red liquid inside calm.

Right there, next to where the potion had been, was the salt, the last ingredient he needed.

He just stared at it.

 _Don't you trust the others to catch me if I escape?_ Hyde asked slyly. _Do you really need the rope?_

That...

Was true, wasn't it?

Hyde might be confident that he could escape in the confusion but someone would notice, someone would stop him.

Lanyon, Rachel and anyone else who saw him transform might be a little too confused to stop him but Hyde was a wanted criminal and it wouldn't be everyone in the entire building there to watch. The moment he ran out into the society, someone would stall him long enough for someone to stop him.

From outside his office, there was the pounding of approaching footsteps. Someone – several someones – were running towards his office. He didn't have much longer to decide.

Hurriedly, Jekyll practically threw the salt in and began to frantically scrabble for a stirring rod he could use to mix the concoction.

His usual stirring rod had been lost in the initial confusion of tearing through his office and, with all the sheets and books on the floor, he couldn't find it anywhere.

Believing it to have fallen to the floor, he fell to his hands and knees and began to scrabble through the disarray he had left. The floor was cold and his hunched posture caused his back to start to ache. Tears of desperation and pain began to swell in his eyes. Blinking, he forced them back.

After only a few seconds of panicked scrabbling and listening to the footsteps approach, he decided he didn't need the rod.

Jekyll stumbled to his feet and grabbed up the bottle once more. Violently, he shoved in the cork and began to shake it up and down as vigorously as possible. In his hands, the potion frothed and boiled, the vibrations of the thrashing liquid felt through the glass.

Partway through, the cork popped out and some of the potion splashed onto his hands, still bubbling and hissing. Jekyll flinched, glancing down at it.

It didn't look mixed properly. He could still see grains of undissolved salt resting on his hands and the occasional red or purple streak in the fluid. With a hiss of frustration, Henry mashed the cork back in and raised his hand, preparing to start shaking it again.

There was a bang.

Dr Jekyll froze.

The door was open and, standing in the doorway, was Robert, Rachel and Virginia Ito, all staring at him.

He must have looked quite the state, hair sticking out, clothes stained with still fizzling chemicals, holding a dripping glass of something green, purple and red in one hand above his head. Around him were the scattered remains of his office, the drawers, the papers, every cabinet open with their contents knocked over or spilling out.

Henry swallowed.

 _You probably look like a proper mad scientist right now._ Hyde snickered. _I'm sure Frankenstein would be proud._

In that moment, nobody moved. The three of them were staring at Henry with mixed looks of worry, confusion, and fear. A thick, horrified silence hung over all of them as they took in the scene.

Robert was the first to move, making his way down the steps with haste.

"Don't." Henry lowered the glass and stepped back.

He was relieved to see Lanyon stop at his words, pausing right there near the bottom of the stairs.

"I can prove it." Jekyll said with dangerous quietness, meeting Lanyon's eyes. "I _can_ prove it, Robert... Please don't make me prove it."

Robert met his eyes right back. There was an absolute terror on his face that nearly made Jekyll quaver.

However, he refused to be the first to look away.

"Prove it? Prove what?" Virginia looked the most confused through all of this. She glanced at Rachel and Robert with a frown.

"Private matters." Lanyon replied back, not taking his eyes off Jekyll. "Listen, Henry, I know you're confused right now but whatever _that_ is, it's not safe. Just put it down and we can talk about this."

"I've taken it before, it's perfectly safe." Henry was doing his best to sound as calm as possible. He knew he already looked like a crazy person, waving around his wretched potion like it was a gun.

For all he tried though, the lack of emotion in his own voice was disturbing to hear, especially with the absolute chaos around him – chaos that he had caused.

_Maybe I have lost it a little._

"Ok, ok." Robert raised his hands in an unthreatening manner and Jekyll felt his stomach do a flip. That was the sort of behaviour people used on someone that they believed was dangerous, either to themselves or others. Robert was trying to diffuse the situation. _Robert_ was treating him like he was dangerous. "I believe you, alright? Just put it down."

Like he was Moreau.

"No, you don't." Henry replied, his voice chillingly low, continuing to back away.

If they thought he was dangerous, there was no way he was making it out without being tied down or... Or sent to... To...

Once more, he looked at the potion. Not fully mixed, soaking his hands and dripping on the floor.

Was it safe to drink like this?

He couldn't make any sudden movements. If he started to shake it again, Robert would instantly know what he was up to.

They were being cautious, they were taking it slow.

That gave him time.

"Look," Ito piped up, "I'm not really sure what's going on but, whatever that is, it doesn't look safe."

"It's not mixed properly." Henry mumbled, "I didn't have time."

"Alright. What does it do? Is there any reason you can't finish mixing it?"

"No! No way!" Robert snapped. "Henry intends to drink it and we don't know what it'll do. That's why he can't finish mixing it."

Jekyll swallowed.

His eyes caught on the glint of something. Careful not to move his head, he flicked his eyes to the source of the glint.

It was the stirring rod.

There it was, sat on the table, just poking out from under some papers, not even out of arm’s reach. His eyes drifted back to the trio.

"Jekyll, do _you_ know what it does?" Ito asked.

"Yes."

How was he to get it? If he reached for it, they would see. He needed an excuse to get closer to the table, without them suspecting a thing.

"Look, it's not so easy to explain what's going on." Robert cut in, lowering his voice as he spoke to Ito, "We can explain later but, for now, we might need sedatives and activated charcoal. Can you get that for us?"

Activated charcoal, huh? It was supposed to be a treatment for poisons. Robert really thought he was about to poison himself.

Ito was hesitant but, after a moments pause, she turned and, picking up the skirt of her dress, hurried back up the stairs and out the door, leaving them alone.

They all waited for the door to close before anyone spoke.

"Charcoal, Robert?" Henry asked a little wearily. "You really trust me that little?"

"It was the only way to get her to leave. I couldn't exactly talk to you properly with her there, could I?” Robert gave a nervous smile, “Look, I really do believe you, ok? You said it would be dangerous to let Hyde out and I have to agree."

_You know he's lying, doctor._

"What changed your mind?"

"Rachel." Robert said almost too quickly, "She convinced me."

Yeah, no.

Henry saw that sharp little movement of hers when he said that. It was the old "Did I?" look.

He needed that stirring rod and he needed it now.

"Look, Dr Jay." Rachel finally spoke up for the first time, "I know I said I wouldn't ask Robert and I'll apologize for that as much as you want later but, right now, I want to hear things from your point of view."

Henry wasn't sure how to respond. Lanyon seemed to take this as an indication that their words were getting through to him because he took another step forward.

"Henry, please."

Henry's eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful look. An idea was starting to come to him.

Lanyon was starting to relax, starting to believe that maybe Henry was calming down. If Robert let down his guard enough, he could get to the stirring stick. All he had to do was to show Lanyon what he wanted to see.

There was no putting down the potion though. That was a problem.

What Lanyon wanted to see most, the thing that would cause him to completely let his guard down, would be that potion disappearing. Except, if he put it down, he couldn't guarantee he would be able to pick it up again before he got dragged out.

Slowly, he lowered his hand holding the potion to his side, watching with a sting of guilt as Lanyon's face began to light up.

"That's right." Robert spoke soothingly. "We don't need to get Hyde involved. The three of us can talk about this privately. I'm sure we can all work out a solution. Can you just put that down?"

"I... I can't."

Lanyon hesitated. "Jekyll, please? Just place it on the floor, it'll still be there after we've spoken."

"But..."

Ok, excuse time. Why couldn't he put it down?

He could try claiming it was stuck to his hand? It had leaked a little, it wouldn't be strange to say it had dried and gotten his hands a little stuck.

No, it sounded like an excuse. It wasn't superglue for God's sake. Besides, it was still clearly bubbling away on the floor, still completely wet and not sticky in the least.

What did Lanyon _want_ to hear? That was the trick. If he played into Lanyon's beliefs, there wouldn't be any doubt.

Why did Lanyon believe he wasn't putting it down?

Well, that was simple.

"He won't let me."

Henry injected as much pathetic sounding misery as he could into those words which, with his current mental state, wasn't much of a feat.

Lanyon saw this as Hyde using some kind of mind control or mental manipulation? Fine. Then that was the game they were playing.

It was clear that, even without context, his words had hit home. Robert’s eyes widened and his face seemed just a little more tense.

"...He?" Robert asked fearfully.

"Hyde. I... My head's feeling a bit clearer right now... I just..." He shook his head as though trying to clear it of something and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He won't let me put it down. He can't make me drink it but..."

This felt very different from his normal acting. Fake smiles and pleasantries were extremely different from pretending that a malevolent force was trying to control your body. In all fairness, it wasn’t exactly like he had never suffered from that before but it was never quite so… Hammy.

Honestly, he was glad it was just his close friends that he was with at that moment. His reputation would be trashed if anyone else saw him putting on such a melodrama.

His eyes flicked to Rachel and felt a spike of fear shoot through him. A bewildered look was crossing her face. Clearly, she suspected something wasn't quite right here. Lanyon had already taken the bait, hook, line and sinker but Rachel could tear it all down in a second.

 _Please Rachel,_ He willed internally as hard as he could. _Don't say anything._

"Can't make you drink it?" A flicker of hope on Robert's face.

"Y-yeah. Whatever he's done to me, it's weakening. I think making me hold onto this is the only thing he can still make me do."

Rachel's eyebrows were raising higher dubiously and Jekyll could feel a tremble starting. Instead of fighting it, he leaned into it. His legs began to shake violently and he took a step towards Robert.

With his legs shaking the way they were, it was easy to make a show of tipping to one side and stumbling into the table. He slapped one hand onto the table to stop himself, feeling his fingers crumple around the paper atop the rod.

Lanyon made to run forward to help him right himself but Henry quickly raised a hand to gesture to him to stay there, the potion in hand. With his other hand, Henry carefully slipped the stirring rod up his sleeve with a slight of hand that would have made a magician proud.

"Can I have a second to collect myself?" Henry smiled awkwardly at Lanyon, leaning heavily on the table.

"I'm not going anywhere. I can't exactly trust you to-"

"I wasn't asking that. I just..."

What did he need next? An opportunity to use the stirring rod without Lanyon seeing.

He turned so his back was to Lanyon, acting as though he was leaning heavily on the table, acting exhausted. Using his body to shield what he was doing, he popped the cork off the bottle and, as quietly as possible, slotted in the stirring rod and began to swirl it with more caution than he had ever put into stirring in his life.

If that rod clicked against the glass just once then the jig would be up.

There was a step behind him as Lanyon tried to approach again.

Henry swallowed. There was only so many times he could tell Lanyon to stay away until he sounded suspicious.

"I'm sorry, Robert."

The steps paused. Good, that threw him off.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It isn't your fault."

More approaching steps. The liquid in the glass only looked a little better than it did a second ago. Was it safe to drink yet? Maybe if he swished it around his mouth a lot, he could finish mixing it. Or maybe his stomach would mix it for him.

"Look, we'll go back to the medical room. We can all figure this out. Hyde will face justice for whatever it is he's done to you, I swear it."

Henry tried to quicken his task. The liquid swirled itself into a whirlpool, the colours blending together in strange, almost beautiful patterns. It spun faster and faster until everything was a blur of movement, the rod circling with anxious speed.

Then there was a clink.

For a moment, everything froze.

Jekyll’s shoulder’s tensed, not daring to move or to say a thing.

Still resting against the glass where it had struck, the stirring rod sat in the bottle. Around it was a purple ring of unmixed formula, bouncing in the waves like it was mocking him.

"Henry, what was-?!"

“ _Out of time. It’s now or never.”_

"As I said, I'm sorry." Jekyll turned around, glass in hand.

Before Lanyon's horrified eyes, he raised the bottle to his lips and swallowed all of it in one gulp.

He felt the undissolved grains of salt slide down his throat. The taste was different from usual, his tongue clogged up with the taste of salt one second, then brimstone, then an overwhelming, persisting copper.

Lanyon was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking. A look of utter desperation and horror had entered his eyes, stabbing Jekyll with guilt.

"Spit it out! Henry, _please!"_

Jekyll just shook his head, feeling his stomach already start to burn as the transformation took hold. He only had so long to talk to Lanyon before Hyde took hold. His alter ego was excitedly tugging at his mind, eager to take control.

"Robert, it'll be ok. Just don't let Hyde escape, alright? I'm trusting you with that."

"For Christ's sake, Henry! This is madness! Hyde isn’t going to-!"

Just then, something began to writhe under Jekyll's skin.

Lanyon must have felt it too because he sharply pulled his hands away from Jekyll's shoulders, eyes widening.

The burning in his stomach grew and grew and, for all Henry did his best to smile for Robert's sake, he could feel his smile quavering, beginning to twist into a grimace. Everything in him wanted to scream and cry or clutch at the source of the pain.

His legs began to shake more and more violently and, unable to keep himself standing any longer, they buckled beneath him. Henry hit the ground hard, struggling to keep himself kneeling rather than collapsing to the floor completely.

Fluid was spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks and he couldn’t be certain how much of it was the potion and how much was his own pained tears. In his tightly closed mouth, there was a building pressure as liquid built up inside, bringing with it a stinging copper taste like blood. It was uncomfortable how full his mouth was but, if he opened it, he knew he would start to howl.

For a stupid moment, he thought he might be able to do it. He thought he might be able to last the entire transformation without letting slip to Lanyon exactly how terrible the process was for him.

Then there was a building pain at his back.

It was a hot sensation, and, with it, something warm began to trickle down his spine, dripping onto the floor.

It felt as though something was tearing.

In that second, he remembered the injury.

But it was too late, in a split second agony tore through him powerful enough to completely white out his vision.

The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was his own screaming.

  
  


Rachel stared at the scene before them, her hands over her mouth in horror. Robert had backed up a few steps, giving her a perfect view.

Blood dripped onto the floor, quickly staining through bandages and a waistcoat which were now too large for the body they were on. The sandy blonde locks that trailed in the growing spill stood out clearly against the crimson.

The figure's eyes were closed, face twisted into a look of pain even in unconsciousness.

Robert wouldn't know who he was looking at but Rachel certainly knew.

"...Edward..?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real villain of this fic: "Not thinking stuff through properly."


	11. Love Letters to a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Rachel deal in their own ways.  
> Some better than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for emotional detachment/shock, fainting, and questioning one's own reality  
> Also blood although I worry for anyone who's read this far who can't stand blood.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This _can't_ be happening."

Rachel was carefully doing her best to quickly redo the bandages on Hyde's body, a task that had become all the harder by the fact that the bandages were already soaked through.

Aside from dripping of blood and Lanyon's frantic mumbling, the room was actually rather quiet. To Rachel, it was almost meditative which, she mused, probably wasn't a good sign of her mental state.

Although the bandages had become loose, the blood was annoyingly sticking them to the skin, forcing her to peel them off as carefully as possible, wincing as the blood spill only became worse once she had done so.

For a science lab, there was a frustrating lack of medical supplies in the room, leaving the wet bandages all she had to do the wrappings back up again. They wouldn't be completely useless, just not recommended and she was hesitant to reuse them. Not if she could help it.

With the dripping rags pinched between two fingers, she looked about for a better substitute. Considering Jekyll's profession was alchemy, the room was, unsurprisingly, mostly liquid components. Probably bad at dressing an injury unless she wanted to grind some salt in there and hope that would work. Or a glass vial.

Her eyes alighted on Lanyon who was still staring, in a daze, at Hyde's body, muttering to himself over and over again. After Jekyll's transformation, he had simply sunk to the floor and curled into a ball right there and then. He hadn't moved since and he had been muttering so long that his voice was becoming hoarse.

"Hey, can I use your cravat?"

"This can't be ha- Wait, why?" His eyes refocused on Rachel, giving her an odd look. His voice was definitely quite croaky.

"I need a temporary bandage, my apron's too big and none of my clothes tear easily enough to use. Your cravat would be perfect."

"But it'll get-" Lanyon started before seeming to remember what was going on and, with no further complaint, undid his cravat. Once he had handed it to her, he got straight back to panicking.

Rachel pressed the cravat against the pouring wound, the yellow silk instantly turning crimson. Her hands alone left bloody handprints on the material which made it difficult to tell whether the cravat was becoming soaked through too quickly or if she was simply getting blood on the other side.

"This'll be a lot easier if you helped." She noted as she worked, tying the cravat around Hyde's body. On Jekyll, it would have been too small to wrap around but, on Hyde's tiny frame, it could only just work, although it might have been a little snug. Well, Hyde wasn't awake either way, he couldn't complain that it was uncomfortable.

"I... What do you want me to do?"

"You know this doctoring stuff better than I, is there anything in this room that could help? Like a chemical that can help it clot?"

Lanyon stood shakily and, with the staggering movement of one moving way too quickly after a shock, went about searching the room. Rachel winced at the loud clattering and clinking of vials as he clumsily hunted the cabinets. It sounded like he was one small slip away from shattering every glass in the office and they couldn't deal with more injuries at that time.

"What about that other woman?" He asked faintly, head in a cabinet.

"Other woman? You mean Ito?"

"If that's her name then yes. We need to get Henr- _Him_ _–_ out of here before she gets back."

Rachel turned to stare at him, disbelieving.

"Why?" She demanded.

"Rachel, think about it. We can't let anyone else find out about this. Jekyll's reputation means more to him than anything, he would be devastated to have that ruined. Besides," He gestured violently at Hyde, "How the Hell do we explain _this?!"_

"But Jekyll needs help!"

"From the lodgers? A bunch of nutcases who, might I note, _blew up the building_ not too long ago? Jekyll might like the lodgers in this place but they can't be trusted – you saw how quickly they turned on him when Frankenstein arrived, how do you think they'll react to this? They could tell other people about it or use it as blackmail against him or- or tie him down to a table and cut him open!"

"The lodgers wouldn't-"

Her words died in her throat.

It was harsh to admit but some of them might. She was fond of the lodgers. In her life, she had met some rather unique figures but they all paled in comparison to the chaotic assortment of characters that Jekyll kept bringing in. They were excitable but, the issue was, they didn't really know where to stop – Something that had become abundantly clear in the recent weeks between Frankenstein, the explosion, and the fire.

A few of them were already eyeing up Creature in worrying ways and, if they didn't idolize Frankenstein so much, part of her wondered if any of them would try and find out exactly how he ticked.

Moreover, gossip travelled at the speed of sound in the society so it wasn't like they could pick and choose a few trustworthy figures to ask for help. If they told one of them, pretty soon everyone would know.

Her eyes flicked back to Hyde. It wasn't encouraged to move an injured body but Lanyon was right – Jekyll could be in even more danger if they told someone and, considering the situation was already bad, they didn’t want to risk it getting any worse. They also had more medical supplies in the medical room.

"You'll need to help." She concluded, resigned.

With a nod, Lanyon tottered over and knelt at Hyde's legs. Awkwardly, he took Hyde's legs several times and several angles, trying to figure out how best to pick him up. While he did that, Rachel took the body beneath the arms.

Once Lanyon had finally settled on a position, Rachel tried to catch his eyes. It took several attempts because Lanyon's eyes wouldn't focus properly on anything. Whenever she thought she had his attention, his eyes would drift away to stare despondently at absolutely nothing. At last, when he focused properly on her, she signalled him with a nod and they both lifted him.

"Is it just me or is he really light?" Robert noted anxiously.

"It's not just you. Hopefully it's just the transformation."

"Oh, yeah, the transformation." Robert laughed a little hysterically, "My close friend turning into someone else entirely right in front of both of us. You know, like one does."

Rachel's brow furrowed and she stared at him.

"Are _you_ going to be alright?"

"I'll... Let's deal with Henry first."

He didn't look alright. There was a twitch in his eyes and his legs were trembling so much that Rachel was starting to believe that, perhaps, it would be safer if she just carried Hyde by herself. His voice alone sounded so distant and detached.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Robert was going to faint at any second – only kept standing by the current urgency and the tasks that preoccupied his mind. She could only hope that he remained standing until they got to the medical room.

One of them would have to walk backwards to carry Hyde out and, taking in Robert's condition, Rachel silently nominated herself.

While they carried Hyde out as carefully as they could, Rachel thought back over what was happening. For the circumstances, she felt surprisingly calm.

Well, that wasn't right. She wasn't actually sure that she was feeling anything at all.

Some part of her couldn't really process what was going on. Jekyll was Hyde and Hyde was Jekyll and it just didn't make enough sense for her to wrap her head around. So, in the face of the current emergency, she simply didn't try.

The only emotions she had felt had been once she had seen Hyde’s body on the floor where there should have been Jekyll. Vaguely, she remembered herself screaming but she couldn’t remember if she had felt anything to go along with it. On some level, she must have felt something otherwise she wouldn’t have screamed but she simply couldn’t recall what it was.

Maybe Lanyon wasn't the only one kept standing by preoccupation with the task at hand.

Numbly, while starting to walk up the stairs backwards as cautiously as she could possibly manage, she wondered if, perhaps, she would simply collapse once Jekyll (Hyde..?) was stable again.

Although, maybe not. One of them had to talk to Ito and, if Jekyll was missing and the only two people who had been there to witness what had happened were both unconscious, it wouldn't be the best look. That was assuming that, without either of them to stop her, Ito didn't look in the medical room herself and see Hyde injured on the bed.

No, if she were going to pass out, it would have to be...

She nearly walked into a wall, stopped and righted herself. Thankfully, they had made it to the top of the stairs which meant that the most physically hard part was out of the way.

However, the more psychologically challenging part was just about to begin: Getting Hyde to the medical room without being spotted or having Lanyon collapse part way.

Her eyes flicked nervously to Lanyon.

"Tell me if you see or hear anyone coming." She commanded with more confidence than she felt.

Frankly, she didn't believe that Lanyon was self-conscious enough at that moment to spot if someone was coming but she could only hope. That, or believe that she would hear someone coming herself.

Her biggest concern at that point was Ito returning.

Most of the lodgers were too busy working on the exhibition to disturb them so long as they paid attention to where they were going. Ito, on the other hand, was certain to come back, presumably in a hurry given how urgent the situation had been when she left.

They had already lost precious time for Lanyon's panicking and her treatment of Hyde's injuries.

As she walked, though, she was strangely unconcerned about being spotted. The walls were the same walls she had been seeing for years, the same corridors, the same doors. It was as though nothing had changed even as everything had changed.

This was just something that was happening now. Her dorky friend who was more akin to a little brother than a stranger was, in fact, her boss and close friend and she was now carrying his – their? - almost lifeless body secretly through the society because transforming from one person to another had the unfortunate side effect of tearing out stitches.

It was strange but only recently Hyde had kicked open the door with the presumed dead Frankenstein and her monster in tow at a ridiculous time of night with some other more murderous mad scientist at their heels so she had honestly rather high standards for strange at this point. Jekyll may have hit those standards but it was still lower on the scale than, say, Lanyon bursting out into a musical number in the middle of the society for absolutely no reason.

She only wished she could have talked to Jekyll before he did this. Maybe she could understand what in heaven's name was going on or, perhaps even managed to stop this happening.

Just then, she heard movement.

Lanyon’s head shot up and almost dropped Hyde in his panic, fumbling with the legs for several tense seconds before regaining his grip.

"Someone's coming!" He hissed, the legs at an awkward angle in his hands.

"I heard." Rachel looked at where they were. The medical room was just by them, a little further along. It was a risk, but she decided it was safer to get Hyde into the room rather than trying to hide.

Lanyon stifled a yelp as she began to drag both him and Edward awkwardly towards the door. With her elbow, she clumsily tried to force the handle down.

The footsteps were getting louder.

She gritted her teeth and tried harder. The handle went down several times only for her elbow to slip, causing it to pop back up again with a rattle that she was sure must have alerted whoever was coming. The handle was slick, metal, too smooth, too thin for her to get a proper grip without her hands, it popped back up so easily and so quickly, again and again, scraping against her arm.

For the dozenth time, the handle went down and, with her full body weight, she forced herself against the door. To her utter relief, the door pushed open and she almost fell through.

The pair rushed inside.

In a panic, Lanyon instantly dropped Hyde's legs and slammed his shoulder into the door, slamming it shut and, with a bit of fumbling with the key, locking it.

Rachel stumbled for a second with the extra weight, wincing at how hard Hyde's bottom half hit the floor, the rest of him still propped strangely in her arms. His head lolled so the face stared up at her, eyes still shut, not even reacting to the drop. Like a corpse.

The door handle rattled. When the lock withstood, there was a pause, then knocking.

"Hello? Dr Lanyon? Dr Jekyll?"

It was Ito. It seemed they were just in time.

"Hi!" Rachel called back out, wincing at how high her voice sounded. Her heart was still racing.

"Rachel? Is Dr Jekyll in there? Is he ok?"

"Oh... Uh..." She looked down at the dead weight in her arms anxiously. Even though the eyes were shut, for whatever reason her mind conjured up the image of glassy, dead eyes staring right through her, the usual bright green dulled and empty, devoid of either Jekyll or Hyde. "Not exactly. He might need a little privacy for the moment."

"Can I come in?" The handle rattled again. "I have the charcoal and sedatives."

"Not... Really..."

A confused silence.

"Rachel, I'm an alchemist. If Dr Jekyll drank something dangerous, I'm the best one here to treat it. I know you think Jekyll needs privacy right now but-"

"It's his injuries." Her mind was going a mile a minute. "Lanyon tried to wrestle that potion out of his hands and, in the scuffle, his injury reopened."

"I _what?!"_ Robert exclaimed as Rachel desperately tried to hush him.

"Chemistry has nothing to do with it." Rachel spoke louder to drown him out, "What he needs right now is a doctor and some time to rest in peace. I'm sorry that Lanyon sent you out on a fool's errand."

For a long and nerve-wracking moment, Rachel thought that Ito wouldn't buy it.

Then, there was a long sigh from the other side.

"I don't suppose I can convince the pair of you otherwise? No, probably not, knowing Dr Lanyon... Just... Please keep me updated on how he's doing and... If you need my help, don't hesitate to ask. If it's for Jekyll's health, I'm willing."

At long last, there was the click of heels walking away. Rachel exhaled, almost collapsing against the door with a mixture of relief and exhaustion from the whole affair.

Just then, there was a thud from behind her. Bewildered, she peeped over her shoulder.

On the floor behind her, in a crumpled rag-doll of limbs, was Robert Lanyon. It seemed he had finally fainted.

With a longer, more exasperated exhale, she set about dealing with Hyde.

And, after that, Lanyon.

  
  


Lanyon was quite sure he was going to go through all of the five stages of grief thanks to this. He was currently sat directly in denial.

At that time, he was sat in the medical room, perched across from Hyde, watching the unconscious body with a disconnected curiosity.

His mind had conjured up every explanation possible for what he was staring at. Maybe all of this was a dream? Or whatever mind control device Hyde had been using on Jekyll had gotten itself into his head too?

Maybe Jekyll had poisoned himself after all. He had died and now Lanyon had lost his mind, clutching onto any delusion he could to explain why Henry was still alive.

Lightly, for the hundredth time that day, he touched the bandages on Hyde, wrapping the exact area where Jekyll's injury had been. It felt so solid, so real beneath his fingers even though every part of him told him it couldn't be. If he pressed it in the right spot, he could even feel the wet of blood and see the red staining on his own fingers. Although, for obvious reasons, he had only done that once. He didn't want to hurt Hyde any further.

Well, any further than he already had.

At that moment, the blood on his fingers had dried into something crusty and brown. He knew he should go and clean it, he just... He just wanted a little more time to process.

_So, if this is denial, when does anger set in?_

He couldn't imagine being angry at that moment, he was just too exhausted.

Lightly rubbing his fingers together, he stared at the blood that coated them. It was a strange sensation. Mildly sticky, a little rough.

It was in the middle of this that the door slammed open with a bang and, Rachel bustled in, balancing more vials of painkillers and medication in her arms. She frowned upon seeing him.

"You're still here?" She asked, placing the stuff down on the nearby table and putting her hands on her hips.

The curtains were drawn so that nobody could look in and see who was truly in the bed but a chink of sunlight flowed through, the tiniest light in the dim room. Against the white tiles, the light was almost blinding to look at, painful on the eyes. Robert stared at that light, watching the seared reds and greens on the inside of his eyelids whenever he blinked. It hurt but he could barely feel it.

"How are you handling this so well?" He asked quietly.

"Honestly? I don't know. I think the shock just hasn't settled in yet." With the professional air of one who wasn't involved in any of this emotional shenaniganry, she straightened, stretching her back. "And, while that's happening, I think I'll be making the most of it to treat him. You should go. You've been in here all day."

Robert didn't reply at first. He simply stared a little longer at the stranger on the bed wearing his friend's clothes and injuries.

"Rachel?" His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. "You said I only knew Hyde through the lodger's stories. That he wasn't really like that."

"Right." She nudged herself in next to him, checking the bandages and tutting at the bleeding.

"So... Can you tell me about Hyde? What he's really like?"

Surprised, Rachel glanced over at him and studied his face closely, the concern obvious on her face. "I… I don't suppose you can wait, can you? I need to deal with Edward right now. I promise I’ll tell you later but..."

Stiffly, Robert stood, still rubbing his fingers together. Flakes of sticky dried blood came away, the texture unpleasant against his skin.

"Robert." Rachel spoke softly. "Maybe you should rest for a while, take some kind of break. You need to do something to take your mind off of all this."

There was no response. Without even a glance back at her, Lanyon just turned and left in absolute silence. He shut the door behind him and slowly, shakily, ran his fingers through his hair.

Then he took a right turn and headed in a very certain direction.

Rachel was right. He needed to do something other than hang over Hyde like the Grim Reaper. Jekyll had been carrying papers just before he… Before he…

(A shaky smile, a crazed look in the eye. Screaming and howling and spilling green fluid and blood. The sound of bones breaking and twisting and flesh rending, the body before him so overcome with terror and pain that, even before it had fully changed, it scarcely looked like Henry anymore. Writhing skin like something was alive and moving beneath it.)

A sharp shake of the head to clear his head of those images.

No wonder Jekyll had done some soundproofing on his lab when they had first got the building. Robert had always thought it was because the lodgers were too loud.

Anyway, whatever was going on, those papers might tell him something.

He walked with a purposeful stride and ignored the few people he passed, shrugging off any attempts to speak to him. When he arrived at the lab, he entered without a moment's hesitation.

It was still a mess, even more so now than it had been before. The papers scattered on the floor were now illegible, soaked through with blood and the strange multi-coloured liquid that Jekyll had drank.

On the table where they had been left were the papers that Jekyll had been carrying just before he...

Robert swallowed and approached, a pile of scattered salt on the floor crunching under his shoes as he walked. On the papers, there were some little splats on blood here and there but, to his relief, most of it was still legible.

They rustled in his hands as he picked them up, the blood sticking a few of the pages together forcing him to peel them apart with absolute care. His eyes darted across the papers.

There were ingredients and research logs, most of which weren't in any high amount of detail.

_Double dose._

_Single dose._

_Single._

_Double._

_Single._

It probably meant something to Henry but, to Lanyon, it meant absolutely nothing. He flipped over to the next sheet. An instruction list of how to make the potion. Again, not incredibly helpful.

Lanyon shifted around to the next one. His eyes alighted on the words in front of him. They swam before his sight for a second, exhaustion making it difficult to focus and it took several attempts before he processed the words he was reading. When he finally read them, however, his grip on the papers tightened.

_I'm not exactly sure I should be taking notes right now but, while everything is still fresh in my mind, I want to get my thoughts down on paper. There's just so much I need to say and do. I'm absolutely desperate to tell someone about all of this but, since it won't exactly be great for my reputation, I guess I'll just be telling this blank sheet of paper instead._

_It worked!_ _ It actually worked! _

_Every part of my body is trembling and I feel ill and my skin feels like it's burning even now, but nothing compares to the euphoria I'm experiencing at this moment. I'm not even sure how legible this writing is going to be later on, I just can't keep my hand still. Even now, back in my normal form, the lingering heady, intoxicating feelings from_ _being Edward_ _are swirling about my head. I feel better than I have_ _ ~~in~~_ _~~weeks~~_ _~~months~~_ _ever in my life. I knew I wasn't feeling the best lately but, now that it's all gone, it's like the weight of the entire world has just been taken off my shoulders._

_Anyway, the experiment._

_The experiment didn't quite turn out the way I expected but it wasn't exactly a failure either._

_My intentions were to separate good and evil entirely, to completely rid myself of all that is wrong inside of me. Good and evil have certainly been separated by my hand but not completely rid of one another. At this current moment, even while writing, an apparition hangs over my shoulder. I see him in the glass out of the corner of my vision even now. He looks and sounds so solid but my hand simply passes straight through him. I know already that, if I were to leave this lab, nobody else would see the way that my shadow moves without my input, nobody else would see that my reflection is no longer my own, nobody else would hear his voice but me._

_It's such a normal sounding voice as well. I suppose the theatre shows I've watched has keyed me to the idea that the demons of my mind would have an echoey, inhuman voice but it sounds just like it did when I was him. Unpleasant but ever so clearly human._

_I don't know if this will be a lasting effect or not. Hopefully not. I'm not sure how well I'll function with such a thing always talking in my ear in such a manner. I fear I may get caught talking to myself or staring at things that aren’t there._

_When I first changed, I wasn't aware of any separate entity in my head. I felt the body and thoughts of Hyde as surely as my own and I'm still quite certain that I was alone in my body at that point._

_It was only after I tried to change back that things became strange._

_When I awoke on the floor, I assumed that Hyde had disappeared like how, when one is intoxicated, one's drunk personality doesn't follow them back to sobriety. This was not the case._

_I'm embarrassed to admit that I might have screamed when he first spoke._

_Despite everything, it's so clearly me. Sometimes, when I shut my eyes, I can see myself from his perspective like I'm looking through his eyes. When he opens his mouth to speak, sometimes I feel my own lips part, feel the vibrations of words in my throat, feel my tongue move to speak only to realize that my mouth is still perfectly shut and I haven't made a sound. I know what he's going to say even before he says it because they're my thoughts being voiced._

_His thoughts, his feelings, his words, they're all still a part of me just... Disconnected. Distant, somehow._

_I knew I was acting peculiarly as Hyde but it is a different matter entirely to speak to myself and realize that this was how Rachel must have seen me in that moment. How humiliating. Worse, this apparition of mine won’t even acknowledge how his behaviour comes across. I never thought evil itself would be so lacking in self-awareness._

_I should be scared, I know. Somehow, though, I'm not._

_I'm excited._

_This was not what I expected at all and, in the face of this failure, new questions about the human soul must be raised and questions on how my life is going to change going onwards._

_If this is to be a frequent thing, I need to sort things out. Edward Hyde isn't legally a person, he doesn't have a home or any sort of documents and this needs to be rectified in case someone snoops._

_I never thought my law degree would ever be so helpful but it looks like I'm about to need it if I'm to keep up this facade._

_I also need to check up on Robert and Rachel. As of late, I've been neglecting them to work in my lab, practically non-stop. And my health – that must be dealt with as well. When was the last time I ate? Well, that would be while I was Hyde but I don’t know yet if we share a stomach. I would assume so but I shouldn’t presume without vigorous testing. (Note: Where does that extra matter go when I change into Hyde and, furthermore, where does the extra matter come from when I change back into Jekyll?)_

_I'm practically dying of curiosity here but I need to remain patient. Once everything is in order, I can set about looking into this further._

_Questions. I need to think of questions to ask Hyde._

_How self aware is he?_

_How does he feel about his new existence?_

_Does he share my memories?_

_If I think of something, is Hyde guaranteed to think of the same thing at the same time or is he capable of coming up with ideas of his own?_

_Does he have the same skills that I do?_

_Questions like that. There are also tests to run. So many tests. I hardly think there's enough hours in the day to do all of this._ _This will take at least a few days to sort out everything._

Robert couldn't stop a smile. Even in writing, there was so much enthusiasm in Jekyll.

Somehow, he had been prepared to read of the horrible, wicked things that Hyde had done, of pain and misery, of a man terrified of himself.

This, however, was a far cry from his expectations.

Rachel was right. There was too much about Hyde he didn't know. He flicked through more pages. There was a list of all the questions he had asked Hyde and the quoted responses, which often contained curses.

Then there were test logs.

With Henry's initial enthusiasm, the logs started off full to brimming with information and theories. As the weeks went on and the novelty wore off, the activity in the logs died back and they settled into a strange mundaneness.

Jekyll began to refer to Hyde as he would a normal, if slightly annoying, friend. Earlier noted fears of the persistent hallucinations faded and Henry began to work up a resilience to his phantom's behaviour and presence until, as Jekyll noted in his logs, he was no longer accidentally looking at or talking to Hyde in public.

Jekyll wasn't scared. Far from it. He was absolutely thrilled.

Lanyon turned to the last few pages.

_Hyde has been banned from going out. While the fire is still fresh in everyone's memories, I have deemed it too dangerous. Hopefully, in a few weeks, the police will have relaxed and I will be free to let him out again._

  
  


_Hyde is starting to behave erratically. More than usual, I mean. Not that I blame him._ _Admittedly_ _, I'm going a little stir crazy between treating Frankenstein and preparing for the exhibition. It will only be one week. I can survive._

  
  


_Frankenstein's awake. I guess I'll be using these notes to keep a track of her condition and symptoms. She might be a little resistant right now but I'm sure she'll come around eventually. I've dealt with difficult people before. It might hurt a little more because she was an idol of mine but it doesn't change a thing. Griffin practically bit off my fingers when I suggested he move in here and, yet, here he is._

_I can survive._

_I_ _ can _ _survive._

The rest was, as expected, studies into Frankenstein's condition. The studies into Hyde dropped off into dead silence.

When he was certain he could glean nothing else of Jekyll's strange condition, he slowly lowered the papers, thoughts whirling.

There were so many things to think about. So many stories he had heard of Hyde that just wouldn't connect with the image he knew of Henry. So many incidents where he had spoken nastily of Hyde to Henry’s face when the doctor knew all along that it was actually him that Robert was speaking ill of.

The fire.

A shudder ran up his spine as he recalled it.

If he had known that it was Henry he was blaming, he would have thought of a different plan. He had mostly leaned towards blaming Hyde because he had wanted this stranger out of Jekyll's life but, if he had known, he was sure he could have come up with something else. Robert cursed himself.

Then he cursed Henry for keeping this a secret.

Not that he could really blame Henry. He had been right, after all. Robert hadn't taken it well at all. Look at what had happened when he had tried to speak of it, after all.

Lanyon squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep shuddering breath.

For reasons that he couldn't determine, his cheeks felt wet.

  
  


Nobody had been allowed to see "Dr Jekyll" beside Rachel and Robert since he had transformed. The door to the medical room was firmly locked and, thankfully, the lodgers had no reason to question it. After all, Robert had been spending all his time trying to keep Henry away from the lodgers since the moment he was injured – there was no reason to believe that any sort of change had occurred.

Unfortunately, with the gossip-prone nature of the lodgers, it had quickly spread from mouth to mouth that Jekyll's condition had suddenly plummeted. The lodgers, upon hearing of this had been spending most of their time trying to break in. Their techniques ranged from begging Rachel to _please_ let them in to flat out lock picking. Nobody had managed it so far. Rachel was stubbornly following Lanyon's will on this one and the room was never alone so, the moment anything unusual was slotted in the lock, they were usually greeted by an annoyed Lanyon or Rachel.

The closer the exhibition drew, the more nervous they became. Everyone wanted Henry to be able to make it, to see the culmination of his society, of all their efforts to fix their mistakes. It was becoming clear, however, that the one person they were doing all of this for wasn't going to make it and they wouldn't even be able to see him.

Moreover, the co-leader was barely seen anymore. He was by Jekyll's side practically 24/7. Even if the injury wasn't as serious anymore, the lodger's attempts to break in had worried him.

"I would like you to see it too." Robert finished with a wistful sigh, "I mean, you put your heart and soul into that exhibition, I would give anything to let you see it but I don’t think you can. I’ll tell you everything that happens, alright?”

Hyde remained as silent as a corpse.

"I wonder what you'll be like when you wake up? I've never spoken to... Hyde before. Will I be able to recognize you as Henry or not? You certainly don't _look_ like him."

There was a subtle rise and fall to Hyde's chest, perfectly rhythmic which was an improvement to a few days ago when he would breathe with rattling, juddering breaths. Occasionally he would even cough up blood.

He was improving. Surprisingly, faster than Jekyll.

"Is it because of the potion?" Robert mused then chuckled mirthlessly. "Maybe you should have turned into Hyde sooner."

He was still a little hysterical, he knew. Everything still felt dreamlike – some ridiculous delusion he was playing along to because he had nothing better to do.

Whatever. If he truly cared about his appearance, he wouldn't spend the dinner parties he went to sat in the corner drinking, he would treat them like Henry did. Let him look a little crazy, let people make their own assumptions. This was for Henry's sake.

Just then, Hyde shifted and mumbled a little in his sleep. Robert stiffened.

That had been the first Hyde time had spoken since he had been injured.

"Henry? No, Edward?"

No response. Figures.

With one last look at his sleeping friend's alter ego, Robert settled back in his chair, shut his eyes and slipped off into an uneasy sleep.

One filled with green potions, broken bones, and shapeshifting monsters.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering how Lanyon reacted to Jasper when he first met him, Lanyon is probably somewhat... Faint hearted? Easily scared?  
> Who knows how he'll react in the actual comic? Badly probably.
> 
> This is probably a less exciting chapter than what people were expecting but Hyde's still sleeping. He'll wake up eventually.  
> AO3 keeps throwing in random spaces in my work and I'm so confused as to where they came from.


	12. Hold and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Lanyon visit the market. It goes ok.  
> Until it doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: Mamma mia, heRE WE GO AGAIN.

That morning, it was the sound of arguing and complaining that most of the lodgers awoke to.

Lavender, who had been sleeping in after days of working on both the exhibition and the other lodgers’ stubbornness, rubbed bleary eyes and peeped out of her room just in time to witness Rachel dragging a squirming Dr Lanyon down the hall by the collar.

"For God's sake, Robert!” Rachel snapped, loud enough for everyone to hear. “This isn't healthy and you are banned from seeing Dr Jay until he wakes up!"

"You can't be serious!" The doctor in her grip wriggled a little more like a fish on a hook but he couldn’t prise himself free.

She dragged him through a doorway.

Hesitantly at first, the other lodgers began to slip out of their rooms and cluster at that door.

Some of them pressed their ears to the wood, others opened the doorway just a crack to peer through in a way that was obviously _supposed_ to be subtly but was failing miserably. The smaller lodgers at the back jumped up and down, trying to see what was going on in there.

With a sigh, Lavender joined the lodger pile.

"You haven't left that room in days and you reek of blood!” Rachel was continuing, oblivious to the onlookers, “At the very least you could take a bloody bath!"

"It's- It's fine!” Came the spluttered response, “I took a quick bath yesterday!"

"For what, five minutes? Look, we're going somewhere and that's final."

"Where?"

Finally, with one last defiant wriggle, Robert forced himself to his feet and began to reluctantly walk besides Rachel rather than allow himself to be dragged.

There remained a hard dark look on his face, directed straight at Rachel who was still gripping his collar tightly.

"There's a marketplace in town." She replied airily.

A pause.

"...Is it Blackfog?"

"No. Firstly, that was only here for the week. Secondly, _what sort of person do you think I am?"_

"Sometimes, I wonder…"

Rachel shot him a glare strong enough to cause every watching lodger to shudder.

"You, _young man,_ are going to wash up, get dressed and, _t_ _hen._ ” She raised a finger. “We are going shopping."

With that, Rachel finally dragged the last of Robert Lanyon out of the door and silence fell.

The lodgers stood there for a bit, glancing at one another. Lavender caught the shady looks they were giving and knew immediately where this was going.

Silently, Helsby gave a nod and then, on that unspoken command, every one of the lodgers headed to the medical room that had been guarded for so long.

With nothing better to do, Lavender trailed along behind. She caught a glimpse of Ito in the herd doing likewise and the pair of them gave a look to each other of “So you have nothing better to do either?”

Before they could greet each other aloud, however, they were distracted by confused mutterings from the front of the group.

As Lavender and Ito approached, they could see why.

Attached to the door handle was some strange device, partially made of clockwork and partially crackling menacingly with electricity. It covered over the lock, a shiny cube with bronze cogs sticking out haphazardly at some of the corners.

Directly in the middle was a keyhole, the dark inside looking far more menacing than any keyhole should have been.

The lodgers murmured amongst themselves suspiciously. Nobody seemed to know what it was or what it would do, just that it looked rather threatening.

Soon, however, someone decided to solve the new mystery.

“That’s where my lock went!” Tweedy suddenly exclaimed, pushing himself to the front of the queue.

At the outburst, Lavender frowned at him.

“You know something about this?” She asked politely, gesturing at the worryingly sparking lock.

In all fairness, now that she was really looking at it, it looked like a certified Tweedy creation.

“I do. It’s a lock that deters lock picking. See, if you stick anything that isn’t the key in there, it electrocutes everyone near it.”

Everyone took a step back as Tweedy produced a paper-clip and bent it into a makeshift lockpick.

“Like such!”

He shoved the paper-clip in and the room before them abruptly lit up with a violent, blinding white, causing everyone to shield their eyes.

It was over in a split second.

With a cheery grin, his hair still stood on end and sparking, Tweedy turned back to the crowds.

“Ta-da!”

At the ensuing silence, someone in the crowd awkwardly clapped.

“More of a warning next time, _mate._ ” Griffin snarled, his own hair looking unfortunately like a porcupine. It seemed he hadn’t quite moved far enough back to escape the shock.

Unharmed, thankfully, but bristling in more ways than one.

“So how do we get past?” Cantilupe asked, shuffling cautiously towards the lock like it was very angry swan getting reading to peck her.

“We can’t! It’s completely foolproof!” Tweedy responded proudly.

Everyone groaned.

“Look, it’s not like I knew it would be used like this.”

Just then, Helsby pushed past, wooden toothpick in hand.

“I wouldn’t recommend-” Tweedy started. He never got to finish.

Everyone shielded their eyes seconds before the room once again lit up. Griffin practically threw himself out of the way this time.

When the light show ceased, Helsby was stood there looking a little worse for wear, hair smoking.

“Now,” Tweedy continued, unmoved and his hair sparking even more, “As I was saying, it’s not possible for any of you to-”

At that moment, Pennebrygg pushed past him, holding a hammer.

“Oh dear.”

  
  


It took a great many attempts and a great many electrocutions before the lodgers, who decided that impossible didn’t belong in the dictionary, finally decided to learn the word and give up.

Most of them learnt it pretty quickly but there was no need to leave. They had all been working hard lately and there were a select few more determined lodgers who kept throwing themselves at the lock time and time again. It had just become entertaining to see what was going to be attempted next.

About halfway through this, Lavender turned to one side to see that Mr Doddle had somehow procured some popcorn and was eating it as he watched.

Once the last attempting lodger was knocked out from too many electrocutions, the crowds petered out, leaving an unconscious pile of bodies next to the door.

As the last person there, Lavender found herself remaining to pull bodies away from the door.

If another adventurous lodger decided to try the lock, she didn’t want the poor people on the floor to be repeatedly zapped again.

It was as she was doing this that she heard something.

Letting go of the body she was carrying, she approached the door, warily eyeing up the lock as though it wouldn’t even let her get close.

Once she had picked her way over bodies to the door, she pressed her ear against it.

For a few seconds, there was nothing.

Then she heard it again and knew that she wasn't wrong.

There was definitely someone moving on the other side of that door.

  
  


"You are aware that the exhibition is only a few days away, right?" Lanyon grumbled as they walked.

He had been forced to properly wash and dress before getting dragged out and, surprisingly, one wouldn't know from looking at him how dreadful he had looked just that morning.

The marketplace was a cheery place.

It was thankfully a mostly cloudless day so the area was packed. Bright colours hung from every nook and cranny. Clothes and cloths in every hue of the rainbow, fruits glistening in reds or pinks or greens, silverware glistening in the sunlight and bronze pots or wooden bowls.

"I should be at the society. _P_ _reparing."_ He continued loudly over the sound of sellers crying their wares.

"If I thought you would actually work on the exhibition, I would leave you to it." Rachel quipped back, unfolding her shopping list.

The list was longer than usual on account of the exhibition.

The exhibition would require food – cakes, puddings and other treats for the guests – and, before his turn for the worse, Henry had given her a bunch of money to prepare.

Considering how much she needed, she would struggle to carry it all on her own. One would need an entire crate to carry all of it.

That or a second person.

"What if the lodgers break into the medical room?" Her second person continued to whine.

"They won't."

She would be needing a lot of sugar, flour and eggs. Some cherries and apples, icing...

"One of us needs to be at the society, keeping an eye on Hyde."

"If you agreed to come out on your own, I'm sure I could have stayed and watched over him but you ruined that. Besides, I need you to carry a few things."

To the surprise of nobody, Lanyon's response was more grumbling but Rachel wasn't paying attention anymore.

With a reluctant Lanyon at her heels, Rachel began to dart from stall to stall, checking out the produce.

There was a wide variety of things to pick and choose from which left a lot of questions to consider: Whether she went for the cheaper options or the better quality items, whether to throw in extra ingredients into the recipes to get creative. How much came down to appearance, how much came down to taste.

As she roamed about, she wondered how Hyde was doing.

Obviously, with an injury like that, he wouldn't be waking up any time soon, especially when considering how long it had taken Jekyll. Moreover, she had already prevented the lodgers from breaking in and, just in case, she had even tied Hyde to the bed so there shouldn't be any reason to worry.

Yet, somehow, she felt on edge.

The sound of raised voices met her ears and she turned to see a woman yelling at a shop-owner over something or another.

Rachel cringed.

For a brief second, it reminded her of the chaos just after the explosion. The yelling, the accusations, the anger, the fear. In just that second, the chatter and bustle of people chatting in the streets was just like the smog and desperation after that event.

Quickly, she shook it off and turned away to peer at two bags of flour.

"All that fuss over the fact that _she_ chose and bought a bruised apple." Lanyon muttered, staring at the scene. "And people wonder why I hate people."

As she weighed the bags with her hands, Rachel was vaguely aware that Lanyon had turned to her.

"Hey, is everything ok?" He asked suddenly.

Mildly surprised, Rachel blinked. For the first time in a while, she looked up at him properly, looking for any sign of why he was asking.

"Of course.” She replied curiously, “Why?"

"It's just... It's nothing."

Robert turned back to sulking.

Strange.

Then again, he hadn't properly slept in days. Strange behaviour was to be expected from him.

She picked out a bag of flour and handed it to Lanyon to carry.

Oddly, she felt on edge after seeing that exchange between those two people. Usually, she could stand up quite easily to yelling and anger with little concern but, on this occasion, it troubled her.

For whatever reason, now her mind had become fixed on the memories just after that explosion and she couldn’t shake it off.

It hadn't been the first time the society had blown up, neither had it been the first time that people had gotten injured. It wasn't even the first time that someone close to her had collapsed from injuries.

However, so much had happened recently that it was difficult not to be tense.

She didn't like the noise out there. She didn't like the smoke that curled from the chimneys into the air or the claustrophobia of so many people around her. It was all nerve-wracking and it all reminded her of too many nasty things.

Her eyes flicked to Lanyon.

It didn't matter. At least she wasn't doing as badly as he was. Maybe it was a small comfort but at least she wasn’t alone in her worry.

This was best for the both of them.

Neither of them had been out in too long and they had to get their minds of things.

Lanyon turned to her suddenly.

"Have you noticed how quickly..." He paused. For a moment, his eyes darted around, before he lowered his voice conspiratorially, " _...You know who_ has been healing?"

At that, Rachel hesitated.

She already didn’t like where this conversation was going.

"He seems to be healing quicker than Jekyll.” She noted back, her voice even, “Why do you ask?"

"Isn't it possible that he can also wake up faster than Jekyll as well?"

"And..?"

"What if he wakes up today? While we're out here?"

“I tied him to the bed before we left. Besides, he's a wanted criminal, the lodgers aren't going to let him just walk out and get caught."

"What if the lodgers see him, see his injury and put two and two together?"

"Well it's a pretty well hidden injury. I don't see why they would check his back for no reason."

"What if he collapses in front of them, they get suspicious that he's hurt, and they pull away his shirt to reveal his injuries?"

"Lanyon, this is a whole lot of 'what ifs'. The chances of all of that are miniscule, stop being paranoid."

Despite what she was saying, there was a growing unease inside her.

More than anything, she wished that Lanyon would shut up.

She knew he was just saying these things to get under her skin, to convince her to go back, but they still bugged at her. The problem was, if she told him to shut up, he would know he was having success.

Even keeping her mouth shut, however, he continued to pester her with what ifs the entire time.

Worse, the crowd didn't seem to ease. If anything, it was growing in size and volume the longer they were there and Rachel found herself jostled a lot.

Once, someone bumped into her and snapped at _her_ for not paying attention. Robert gave a snide comment and Rachel retaliated by stepping on the person’s heel as they tried to walk away.

Hyde could wake up, Hyde could get out and cause trouble or get seen or get picked up by the police. He could have a sudden dip in health and die right there and then without anyone any the wiser.

Rachel wanted to snap at Lanyon to shut the hell up but she kept her mouth tightly shut.

It wouldn't be that much longer before they could go home. Just a few more things and that was it. She checked the list. Next was eggs.

She wandered up to a stall selling eggs and began to look about, checking for cracks.

Rachel thanked the shopkeeper, collecting the eggs and handing some of them to Lanyon to put in his basket. She was getting quite anxious in all the open space and she was starting to fret about Hyde.

"Are we nearly done yet?" Lanyon griped.

"Just the apples left." She promised, keeping her voice even. She wasn't letting Lanyon know that she was getting anxious – he would use it as an excuse to go home and, in her current state, she worried that she might not be able to tell him no.

There were numerous apples on display but Rachel's eyes were on the cooking variety only. There were green ones (Green like flowing green fluid), red ones (Crimson as blood spill) and a few more yellow ones (Like oozing pus).

She shifted to the greener apples and inspected them to see which one was the best. Her basket tilted forwards a bit but she didn't pay attention.

"Rachel-"

"We're not going back yet." She told Lanyon sternly.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. Your eggs are-"

Just then, her basket became suddenly lighter and, just milliseconds later, something cracked and there was a sticky wetness about her shoes.

Slowly, she looked down.

The eggs had fallen from the basket and cracked against the floor. It pooled around her feet, a sickly, glistening yellow.

Shakily, she took a step back but the mixture was sticky and clung to her shoe in long, dripping threads.

Against her better wishes, her eyes began to blur with tears. Her legs shook dangerously and she clutched the basket of goods to her chest, doing her best not to spill anything else.

She bit her trembling lip hard and, with deep, shuddering breaths, made one last effort to remain calm. She couldn't breakdown, she couldn't. Not in public and especially not in front of _Lanyon._ Yet, her tears didn't seem to care about that, they just continued to build dangerously in her eyes.

Then, the first tear fell and it was like the floodgates had opened.

Once they started, they wouldn't stop. They poured on and on in choking sobs until her mouth tasted of salt and her face was sticky. She buried her head in the basket, unfeeling the sharp and hard edges of one of the remaining egg boxes, hugging the basket tighter to her.

For a while, she just stood there, bawling and hiccuping like a child. A few people walked past, giving her snide looks.

Then, gently, she felt someone take her arm. Through her watery eyes, she turned to see who it was.

To her surprise, Lanyon was there. There was an unfamiliar expression on his face and he tugged her arm lightly.

“Rachel, let’s go.”

“But, the eggs-”

“Forget the eggs. We can go back for them another time.”

“No, no, I-”

Robert gripped her, looking her in the eyes. “Rachel, it’s fine. Please.”

She swallowed thickly and, with great reluctance, gave him a nod. Satisfied, Lanyon began to lead her away.

To her surprise, instead of taking her back to the society, he brought them both to a quiet alley and sat her down on the cleanest spot on the floor, grabbing a bottle of water from their shopping and handing it to her.

Face still sticky, she took a drink. Then, she poured a little on her hands and rubbed at her face in a futile attempt to clean it.

As she was doing that, Lanyon sat himself down beside her. He didn’t say anything, just watching her worriedly.

Finally, she finished the bottle and, in ashamed silence, handed it back to him.

“Are you feeling better now?” He asked.

“I… Yeah.” She kept her eyes firmly staring at her hands, unable to look Lanyon in the eyes.

Now Lanyon had the perfect excuse to drag the pair of them back home and lock himself away again. He would shut himself away and refuse to come out again for who knew how long, letting himself fester just like Hyde, lying almost lifeless on the bed.

Ultimately, she had failed to help him in any way. She had failed them both.

“We should go home.” He said quietly.

Rachel flinched.

“We can’t! We need-”

“It’s just eggs. We’ll be going home just after that anyway and I think we’ll both be happy to get away sooner.”

“But- But-!”

Just then, his hand took her shoulder again in a comforting way.

“Rachel.” He said softly, catching her eyes and holding them. “What’s this really about?”

Her lip trembled again and, unbidden, she found herself bursting into tears once more. Without even thinking, she buried her face in Lanyon's chest, her fingers clutching at his clothes, desperate for any sort of comfort.

It was a stupid thing to do, she knew. Lanyon was awful at comfort and all she had done was give him more excuses to go back to the society and lock himself in that room again.

"H-hey! Rachel- I..."

There was a moment of hesitation. Then, Robert wrapped his arms around her.

"There, there?"

Hysterically, Rachel burst into a fit of giggles at his uncertainty. The laughter gave way to more, harder sobs.

"What happened? It was just the eggs."

Rachel just shook her head. She didn't want to tell him.

"... _Was_ it just the eggs?" He asked, quieter.

"It's... Nothing. There's just been a- a lot g-going on." She swallowed, her saliva thick and slimy. "The fire, the explosion, Jekyll's injury, H-Hyde-! The last few weeks have been absolute chaos and the exhibition is only in a few days and-" She took a shuddering breath. "It's stupid. I thought coming out here would clear my head but I just feel even worse."

"It's... It's not stupid."

Rachel forced herself to pull back from Lanyon, rubbing the tears from her face.

"Are you calling me stupid then?" Lanyon said with a little huff.

"What? No!"

"So it's only stupid if _you're_ upset about all of this? I wouldn't really agree with that opinion but what do I know?"

"I... I... One of us needs to deal with Jekyll and you- You're a mess!"

"Oh, wow.” Robert snarked back, dryly. “Thanks."

"I'm sorry, it's just-" She sniffled.

Robert, disgustedly eyeing up the mess she left down his front, pulled out a tissue from his pocket pinched between two fingers like it was already used and handed it to Rachel. Then, he pulled out another for himself and started to mop up what she had left behind.

"Someone needs to take leadership." Rachel finished. “And I don’t know who else it should be.”

A troubled frown darkened Robert’s face and he sat back, a faraway look in his eyes. For a split second, she could have sworn she saw a wet sheen to those eyes but then he turned away.

"That was Jekyll's job and look where it landed him.” He said at last, dangerously quietly. “We can't just make this some bloody cycle of people putting their reputation above their health. We're going to kill everyone in the society like that."

"Someone has to take charge." She insisted.

A pause.

"...What's the point of a co-leader if not to share responsibility?" Robert fixed her with a hard look. "Jekyll put everything on himself and he ended up injured in bed, shouldn't we learn a thing or two about asking other people for help when we need it?"

"You? You're going to take responsibility?"

"Partial. Look, I’m not taking on all of it, not after it left Jekyll in such a state."

“Excuses.” Rachel muttered back instinctively.

“ _But,”_ Robert continued pointedly, glowering at her for that last comment. “Instead, why don’t we _both_ take leadership? Temporarily.”

“I feel like I’m still going to be the one doing most of the work.”

“Perhaps.” He stretched, almost lazily, “But don’t hesitate to ask me for help if things become too much... Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah." She dusted off her apron. Robert was still glaring at the snot and tears all over his cravat which had, unfortunately, not completely come off with the use of one tissue. "What about you?"

"What _about_ me?"

"Are you doing better?" She pressed.

Steadily, he met her eyes.

"...Surprisingly, you were right. Shopping really did help me clear my mind. _B_ _ut,_ I would still be thrilled to get back and make sure evil incarnate is still in bed where we left him."

Rachel looked down at her shopping, still missing the apples and a dozen eggs short. It looked like she would be finishing that another time.

"Let's go home."

  
  


Rachel was in better spirits as she entered the doors of the society.

Overall, she was excited to finally get back to the medical room, to clear up her fears and finally remove that tenseness over her.

It was late in the evening and, as a result, the society was quiet.

There were a few lodgers dotted about chatting with each other but there was a cosy air to everything. The lighting was low and the people spoke in hushed tones that echoed in the open space of the society. Even their footsteps seemed muffled.

Amber street lights glowed softly out the windows, lighting their path.

Rachel had expected Lanyon to start sprinting the moment they arrived to get to Henry faster but, to her surprise, he stayed by her side.

Something had changed, she realized. Things were getting better. Robert was recovering and, perhaps, she was too.

"If only they knew." Rachel whispered to Robert with a small snort of mirth, looking at the huddled lodgers down below.

They seemed to be playing cards, using cogs as chips. Some of Flowers’ clockwork bugs buzzed above, making a soft whirring as they went, peeping at the other’s cards.

"Hm?"

"That it's not Dr Jay in that medical room. They would absolutely lose it if they knew the truth."

A moment of silence. They watched on as Flowers won her third game that evening. The evening air was filled with frustrated groans and the clatter of loose cogs as the makeshift chips were surrendered. Flowers smiled warmly at the other lodgers, the insects sat on her shoulder juddering in odd motions, almost as if laughing.

"Well, let's keep them in the dark.” Robert spoke at last, “I don't want to know how they'll react if they knew."

The pair continued on until they came to the medical room.

Rachel smiled and skipped ahead, leaving Robert in the dust.

As she drew closer, however, something cold began to settle in her gut. Her skip changed into a sprint and she skidded to a halt in front of the door, her heart in her throat.

The door was wide open and the room was empty.

  
  


The lock, only designed to keep people out from the one side, was untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lodgers, finding Hyde stumbling about the society, delirious from blood loss after recently breaking out: "Oh, hey Mr Hyde. Hiding from the police has been rough on you, huh? Don't worry, we know Lanyon will get you arrested if he catches you here, we'll just help you get out of the building, no problem. There you go, little buddy."
> 
> I wasn't so sure about this detour in the plot for a while - This particular chapter didn't feel that interesting to me and, for a bit, the whole "Hyde escapes" idea felt kind of pointless - Then, between the new information given in the comic on how Hyde and Lanyon would actually react to one another and new ideas for plot, I started to get back into the swing of things again.  
> Then the reveal of "Rachel doesn't want to leave Hyde alone because that's how Eli died" came up and I looked at this chapter and detour that ran entirely on "Rachel leaves Hyde alone" and went: Dammit. 
> 
> I'd already written drafts for the next two chapters after this one too because I didn't know how to write this chapter so I kind of skipped ahead and left this one for later.
> 
> I mean? Rachel doesn't follow Hyde everywhere so maybe I can get away with this? After the Eli revelation, I did throw in while proof-reading that she tied him up just to make it more realistic that she would felt she could safely leave him alone. (Downside is, now I have to write out how Hyde pulled a Houdini on that.)
> 
> So, yeah. A lot of back and forth on this, hence why things took so long but I have to post this eventually no matter how I feel about it or this entire fic will just grind to a halt. I know me and I know I'm not going to rewrite it. Now I'm picking up a writing event (Which I'm also doing a back and forth about because I have two ideas and they both just feel so underwhelming in their own ways but I've already signed up and I never get involved in these sorts of things) so that's more distraction (One that I need to prioritise because of actual definite deadlines) so who the heck knows when the next two chapters are coming even if I have already drafted them. At least I know where I'm going with this at the moment.


	13. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trap is laid and very quickly goes wrong.

A figure traipsed through the alleyways.

The night was thick and syrupy. It dripped and oozed through the head making it difficult to see, hear, or think. Ears were ringing.

Ring. Ring. Ring. _Ring._ _ **Ring.**_ _ **RING.**_

Futilely, he clawed at his ears like it could somehow get it to stop, head aching, body aching, just aching all over. Every one of his limbs seemed to drag as though weighed down and his vision was frustratingly fuzzy.

He couldn’t even climb up onto the roofs to get a better view of things. Every attempt ended with agony and a human ball on the floor.

It was unbefitting for one such as him to be brought so low by a damnable injury. That sort of weakness was for his wretched other, not him.

Well, at the least, he had hidden it better than that stupid doctor.

After all, he had managed to walk all the way out the door to the society without keying anyone to his injury. Right before the eyes of so many people. Like the masterful evil manipulator he was, he had even tricked them all into assisting his escape.

Dr Jekyll could never do that. The next time they spoke, he would make sure to rub it in that uptight coward’s face.

He would have done it right that second but Dr Jekyll was silent at that time.

It wasn't like those times that his other had refused to talk or wasn’t paying attention to the conscious world. Instead, he just felt... absent.

There was a hole in his head where there should have been a person and he felt disturbingly more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

Not that it mattered, of course.

He didn't need Jekyll. He didn't need anyone! He was the spirit of-

The spirit of...

Blast it, what was his title again?

It was the damnable night, leaking through his head, stopping him from thinking of the words. It was as though his head was filled with pressure, like a blocked water pipe. Frankly, it was a massive bother.

At least he could feel it trickling out again. Steadily, but surely.

Specifically, it felt like it was coming out of his back.

It was a rather unpleasant feeling – Wet, sticky, and gross – but it was better out than in, at least.

Hopefully, if it kept trickling out, soon he would be rid of everything lodged in his skull and he would finally be able to think properly again.

Although, he couldn't help but notice that it wasn't becoming any easier to think. If anything, it was becoming more difficult by the second.

Why _was_ he running away, again?

He remembered something about being confined to a bed for far too long but that wasn’t all it was.

There was something more than that...

Just then, he stumbled, falling heavily against the wall. His fingers scraped unpleasantly against the rough brick but it helped him remain his consciousness.

He glanced back at the way he had come. He had made plenty of progress getting away from the society and his imprisonment but it simply wasn’t good enough for him.

With a small growl of annoyance, he took the unplanned break as an opportunity to wrack his brains.

When the memory he was searching for clicked into place, he instantly regretted searching for it to begin with.

Ah, right.

Dr _Hastie_ Robert Lanyon.

At the memory, Hyde’s face twisted into a deep scowl. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about all that. It seemed pretty damn important.

_“Edward Hyde is a criminal. He burnt down London, remember?”_

_“He’s violent, short tempered-”_

_“He’s gaslighting you! Snap the Hell out of it, Henry! Edward Hyde is a **monster!** ”_

He gritted his teeth.

_“Hyde will face justice for whatever it is he's done to you, I swear it."_

There was no way in Hell he was letting Lanyon make good on his promise. He wasn’t dying to Robert bloody Lanyon of all people. Not to a gentleman who probably had never handled a gun in his life! (Hyde couldn’t fire one either but that was quite beside the point.)

Unbidden, a few more memories darted through his head.

Robert teaching him how to dance, Robert laughing to a joke he had made, Robert’s hands gently cupping his face with a fondness he hadn’t believed him to be capable of.

His chest tightened painfully and, to his annoyance, he felt a wetness welling in his eyes. Frustrated, he dashed the tears away before they had a chance to fall.

He wasn’t crying about it, he wasn’t. Obviously, there was something else causing this reaction.

To his smugness, now that he was paying attention, he could feel a physical tightness to his chest. Not an emotional tightness but some item of clothing that was just too tight. He hadn’t noticed it in all the other aches and pains and, besides, he simply wasn’t used to wearing things that were too small. That was usually Jekyll’s problem.

It seemed clear to him now that this was what was causing the pain and crying. It was squeezing him like a lemon, forcing water out of his eyes. This was the problem, not any weakness of himself.

Curious to see what it was, he pulled up his shirt. He blinked in surprise at what he saw.

Around him were bandages. They were too well-done to be any handiwork of Jekyll’s, clean and seemingly done recently, not some old bits from Jekyll’s awful wrap job.

Although he was confused as to why anyone would have done this to him, he was more concerned about how damnably tight they were.

Besides, here he was waiting for all this pressure in his head to leak out and there were those dumb, glorified toilet paper shreds keeping it all in. With a huff, Hyde began to tug and tease at the wrappings, searching for a good handhold to undo them.

His fingers slipped under the wrappings and a satisfied grin spread over his face.

Then, he hesitated.

He didn't know why. He just... Couldn't seem to bring himself to do this. Once more, he stared down at the pristine white around his body, so innocent, so… caring..?

With a tut, Hyde released the bandages.

Never mind. It would all leak out anyway, this would simply make it a tad slower.

Besides, it would hurt to tear off something sticky from his bare skin like that.

Why add to his current discomfort? They would lose their hold on him over time by themselves.

With that in mind, Edward Hyde continued on his merry way.

  
  


"What do you mean 'Nobody saw a thing'?!" Robert was already panicking. "Surely one of you saw something?"

At that moment in time, Robert and Rachel were stood before the few lodgers who were still awake.

It was still dark out but any weariness had vanished the moment that Dr Lanyon had dashed into the main room with them all, yelling about Dr Jekyll’s recent escape. Candles had been lit, chairs had been pulled up to the table and, soon, a circle of lodgers sat at the table, watching Robert pace irritably.

The shadows stretched long in the low light, a darkness swelling in the corners and doorways. Somehow all the noises sounded so much louder in the silence and dark until even the soft sound of breathing was agonising.

In response to Lanyon, Archer just gave a sorrowful shake of his head. "Sorry, mate. Dr Jekyll must have learnt a few new tricks since his last escape. All we ever saw was the open door but we couldn’t find a trace of the doctor himself."

“I can’t imagine how he managed it.” Ito mused, leaning against the table with a look of deep thought on her face. "If his injury reopened, he’s probably gone back to that unclear thinking of his from before. I doubt he has the capability to pull any clever tricks right now."

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to quell his bubbling nerves. He screwed his eyes shut and thought.

Then, steadily, an idea began to grow in his mind.

With it, a feeling of dread began to creep up on him like frost over a windowsill.

"Did anyone see anything else unusual?" He asked slowly. “Anything that you’re not mentioning?”

Archer immediately looked away and Lanyon realized he had hit the nail on the head.

"By any chance…” He continued, his voice a little strained, “Did you see Edward Hyde?"

"How the bleedin' hell did you know about that?"

Bullseye.

Lanyon gritted his teeth, the dread quickly turning to a sickening anxiety.

"Listen, humour me for a second – Did you see Edward Hyde and do you know what he was up to?"

"He was... Look, he was wandering about the society. He's long gone by now. We helped him get out so that you wouldn't call the police on him."

With that, a pit formed in Lanyon's stomach. He stared back in utter disbelief.

"You... _Helped_ him leave?!"

"And what are you going to do about it?" Archer glared back, sticking his nose in the air, "There's nothing you can do anymore."

“No. _No,_ there’s no way that you _actually_ -!”

"Archer-" Rachel cut in a little more softly. The pair looked up, Lanyon snapping out of his shock.

He was glad that Rachel had cut in. If she hadn’t, he probably would have let something slip there.

"Do you remember how Hyde was behaving?” She asked, her voice a little choked. “Did he seem... Ok..?"

As Archer turned his gaze from Robert to Rachel, a more sympathetic light came to his eyes.

"He seemed a little shaky on his feet.” He replied, the hard edge gone completely from his tone. “I assume hiding from the police all this time has been difficult on him but, besides that, he seemed fine."

"Enough of Hyde." Ito cut in, "We need to find Jekyll before he bleeds out and Hyde probably didn't smuggle him out so this conversation is pointless."

 _Except he did._ Thought Lanyon desperately. _You literally helped Jekyll walk straight out the door and now he could be anywhere._

"Rachel." He did his best to keep his voice even but there was a slight tremble to it. "May I speak with you a second?"

"Just a second, do you know where Hyde went?" She asked Archer quickly.

"Who knows with Hyde? He could be anywhere by now." Archer gave her a reassuring smile. "He's probably safe. You know how Hyde is. He's resilient."

_Not resilient enough to avoid the police while bleeding out._

Lanyon waited there, hoping that Rachel would be able to get more out of them but the lodgers, unfortunately, didn't know anything from there.

Once that was done, the pair slipped into a private room. The moment they were alone, they both looked at each other with matching expressions of horror.

"So... I don't suppose you would know where Hyde would have gone?" Robert asked nervously.

"All I can really think of is Blackfog but that ended just recently."

"We should check just in case. Maybe he forgot that it was over and went there anyway?"

"I suppose we could." Rachel mused. "If Hyde is Jekyll then he might visit the same places as Henry. Places like his house and the society. I guess Hyde also has his own flat in Soho that he might be in but I doubt he actually lives in it. Lucy said there was practically no personal belongings there."

Robert bit his lip and thought for a second. Where would _Henry_ go? Surely he couldn’t have so many places close to his heart that only Hyde would visit. So what was close to Dr Jekyll’s heart besides Blackfog.

Suddenly, his head shot up.

"The exhibition!"

"What?"

"Jekyll's wanted to see the exhibition for weeks now but he couldn't because of his injury! It's the culmination of all of his work. If Blackfog is no longer an option then the next thing he wanted to see more than anything-"

"-Would be the exhibition." Rachel finished.

They both stared at each other for a moment.

"As long as he survives until then."

"We can still look for him in the meantime,” Rachel continued, ignoring the morbid comment, “but if we can’t find him, we know where to catch him."

"We’ll need to get him without anyone else seeing."

"Well Hyde probably won't come through the front door... Hopefully. He should have the key for the backdoor, if I remember correctly. It was in his waistcoat pocket while I was treating him. So long as it's quiet in the back area, we can catch him and take him back to the medical room before anyone sees a thing."

There was a moment of silence as the pair mulled it over.

Robert sighed and looked Rachel in the eye. "As the co-leader, I have to man the front. It’ll look too strange if I’m not there to keep an eye on the exhibition. Can I trust you to catch him?"

"Certainly." Rachel puffed herself up like a hen. "I know my way around a trap or two and, if Hyde's still delirious, he should be easy to trick."

"Please tell me you're not going to put a plate of cookies under a box or something."

"...A little better than that."

"A _little?"_

"Look, don't worry about it.” She shrugged him off flippantly, “If I'm on Hyde catching duty, I need you to make sure that nobody comes into the back area."

"I'll do my best."

A nervous hesitation. Robert twiddled his fingers a bit. Rachel raised an eyebrow at him.

Finally, "This doesn't feel like enough people for this." He admitted worriedly.

"Well what can we do? We can't tell anyone else what's going on."

Robert thought about it.

"Hear me out – We get someone else to help with the distraction but we lie about why.”

He began to pace.

“For instance,” He continued, gathering confidence as he spoke as the plan came into fruition, “what if we tell the lodgers that there's a rat infestation in the back and we need to keep the guests out of there? That way, the lodgers help us keep the back rooms empty for the trap."

Rachel simply shook her head.

"Wouldn't work. The lodgers wouldn't be able to resist seeing a rat infestation."

"Ok, different lie. Leaky pipes?" Abruptly, Robert clicked his fingers, his eyes lighting up, "What if we store some extra equipment in the back for the exhibition beforehand? If the lodgers get to _see_ what we're putting back there ahead of time, they would have no reason to want to check during the exhibition and we can still convince them to keep any guests out of there. Like, ‘we're storing a bunch of tables and chairs back there and it's a little messy so the guests can't go back there.’ That sort of thing."

Rachel mused on it, nodding a little.

"It could work.” She said slowly, “But what if someone needs an extra table during the exhibition?"

"What are the chances of that? Besides, I'll still be at the front to keep people out. The lodgers keep the guests out and I keep the lodgers out."

"Well, it's less of a risk than doing nothing, I suppose."

Both of their eyes met.

"Let's hope this goes ok." Robert laughed anxiously.

"You and me both."

  
  


The next few days, while preparing for the exhibition, Rachel and Lanyon both went about preparing for their Hyde trap. Rachel baked a batch of Hyde's favourite cookies and Lanyon uncharacteristically began to assist with the exhibition, moving boxes, tables, and chairs into the back rooms.

The lodgers found themselves curious at Lanyon's change of heart at first but Lanyon neatly explained that, with Jekyll definitely out of business for the next few days until someone found him, he didn't want Jekyll's work to go to waste.

It was a flimsy excuse but Lanyon was the one who taught Jekyll how to lie to begin with. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was lie.

He knew how to weave his web and the lodgers fell quickly under his lies.

Of course, they still looked in their spare time for the missing doctor but Rachel and Robert both knew he wasn't going to show. They had exhausted all the places he could be which meant they couldn’t know where he was.

However, they did still loop Lucy into it.

She didn’t know the whole situation, obviously (How on Earth could they explain _that_ to her?) but she was aware that Hyde was injured and missing.

The problem was, if Hyde was so badly injured, he would be trickier to track down, she explained.

A healthy person would have to frequent the market for food, buildings for sleep or rest, the toilet for… Obvious reasons.

Hyde might not.

They didn’t even know how often he would be awake.

He could literally be face-down in a bin somewhere for the next several days and that made any sort of logical tracking far too difficult. Finding him came simply down to dumb luck.

Sure, he would probably be found eventually but probably not as soon as anyone would like.

The exhibition was their best bet. Despite this, their nerves always rose when another day passed and Hyde was still nowhere to be found.

Rachel fretted that he wouldn't show at all. Perhaps he would pass out in an alley somewhere and die before they could get to him. Or he could sleep through the exhibition entirely, or forget about it.

Her dreams were haunted by images of Hyde's dead body out in the cold and wet, the eyes open and staring emptily at the sky, their usual green dulled to a deeper, familiar maroon.

She dreamt of funerals, where Jekyll's empty casket was lowered into the ground while Hyde's corpse was thrown in a shallow, unmarked grave. She dreamt of Jekyll's secret being revealed and watching him get dragged off to the gallows along with the rest of the lodgers who relied on his reputation to survive. She dreamt of a body falling from a ladder, smashing on the ground at her feet.

As the blood pooled around her feet, she couldn’t tell if it was Eli, Edward, or Henry she was staring at.

Every time she had a nightmare, she found herself going to Lanyon's room.

He was also usually worse for wear, bags under the eyes and the sweat of fear from a recently ended nightmare of his own still on his brow. On those nights they would sit together and talk until the day broke or watch over as one of them slept, ready to awaken them if they began to thrash in their sleep.

It was no surprise that, on the day of the exhibition, both of them were incredibly nervous.

  
  


It was with bleary eyes that Lanyon dragged himself out of bed that morning.

Rachel was still half-asleep on the nearby chair but she was quickly woken up the moment he moved. Between the pair of them, they couldn’t have gotten much more than three hours of sleep all night. Those three hours were a miracle considering.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lanyon pushed open the doors to the main hall.

Immediately, a swarm of clockwork insects flashed by. Robert jumped back, startled and, suddenly, a whole lot more awake than he had been a second ago.

As the cloud of insects dissipated, the rest of the hall came into view and, for a second, he and Rachel simply stared.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been there when the exhibition had been setting up. However, between his exhaustion, the new lighting set up, and everything in place, it was as though he had never seen the society before.

The building had been packed near to brimming with tables and contraptions and boards of information or shelves of glass bottles.

Metal bugs flashed above, glinting in the light as they swirled around and around. They mixed with coloured smoke from every manner of potion and the thick roiling smog of machines into a black rainbow, like the glimmer off a beetle’s back. Electricity crackled through it all, an indoor thunder cloud, playfully whisked by the souring bugs into whimsical shapes. Robert caught a glimpse in the pattern of smoke of a shape that might have intended to be a stag, one of a fish with graceful frilly fins, then, a massive spider in the middle of a web.

The last one was probably a poor choice but they _were_ under the control of the bug lover. Some sort of creepy-crawly was inevitably going to be there.

Not to say there wasn’t a few uneasy mumbles from some of the more arachnophobic lodgers below.

Admittedly, the act was imperfect. The spider’s web was broken in several places where the smoke hadn’t quite stayed in place but it still sort of worked. He could tell what it was supposed to be at least.

Soft music drifted through the room hovering above the chatter and clatter and scrape of chairs and tables as the last things were pulled into place.

Robert looked at Rachel one last time. In all the noise, they wouldn’t be able to run through the plan one last time. From here, they just had to hope for the best.

Silently, they both nodded at each other and, with that, they parted ways. Rachel vanished backstage and Robert, tired from all the difficult days, sat himself down at the side, doing nothing.

Thankfully, nobody questioned why he wasn’t helping. Maybe it was because they were all too busy, maybe it was because he had already done so much, or maybe it was simply because the exhaustion on his face was plain for the world to see. Either way, he was glad for the time to himself.

He simply sat back and watched the shapes above.

When he was aware of someone approaching from behind, he didn't acknowledge them. He just rested his chin in his hands and continued to try to trace the patterns.

The newest one looked like it might be a stag beetle but he was no bug expert.

"I thought it was rude for a gentleman to just ignore people."

He knew that voice.

With a jolt of alarm, Robert spun around.

Sure enough, stood there leaning heavily against a walking stick, was Frankenstein.

She was looking a little better he supposed disdainfully. Not that she deserved the good health.

He rolled his eyes, his nerves settling, and turned back around, hoping she would just go away.

"What do you want, you old hag?"

"Well I was going to say, I heard about Jekyll escaping."

"Come to gloat?"

For a moment, Frankenstein hesitated like she might just do so. Lanyon’s nails dug into his trousers, bracing himself for the shouting match that he simply didn’t have the energy for.

Then,

"I could."

With just that to explain herself, Frankenstein plopped herself down next to him.

Lanyon gave her the strangest look he could give, just in time to watch her take her walking stick and, like lobbing a ball, throw it straight across the hall.

It flew through the air and bonked a very confused Helsby on the head. Helsby rubbed his head, glancing between the stick and the solid ceiling it seemingly fell from, absolutely bewildered.

Slowly, Lanyon turned back to her and cocked an eyebrow with all the “What the actual hell?” he could muster.

"Don't you need that?"

"Of course not!” She sniffed, nose in the air. “Who do you take me for? Creature's been forcing me to use it while I'm walking about. But-”

Frankenstein turned to him, a smug grin on her stupid face.

Robert hated this entire conversation. He genuinely just wanted a nap, not this.

“I'm _not_ walking right now, am I?” She chirped, a mock innocent look on her face, “Besides, it’s now all the way over there and they couldn’t possibly expect a sick and injured old woman to do it herself. I suppose, if they want me to use it so badly, they’ll just have to get it back themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

"You don't think of anyone beside yourself, do you?"

A harrumph from Frankenstein as she sat back, crossing her arms.

"I _can_ think of other people.” She replied testily, “When you lose enough people in your life, you learn it’s not worth getting attached. What's _your_ excuse?"

"I'm leaving." Lanyon stood up.

"The last time I saw someone as sickly as you, just a little later I found they had collapsed from injuries." Frankenstein continued, unperturbed.

She didn’t even look at him as she spoke, her eyes fixed on the bustling preparations. Lanyon eyed her up suspiciously.

"Well I'm not injured and, if I was, I wouldn't be telling you about it."

"I don't think you're injured but..." A reluctant grumble. "I... _Think..._ Maybe the thing with Jekyll is weighing on you."

For the longest time, Lanyon just stared at her incredulously.

"What. A. S _tunning._ Observation. I wonder, _why_ would my missing, injured, delirious business partner weigh on my mind?” He made a show of thinking it over. “Hm... Well, I suppose if I could think of someone beside myself for once, I _might_ be able to figure out this perplexing conundrum. How about _you_ sit there and put your mind to it while I sample some of the food to check it's up to standards?"

As he made to leave, to his annoyance, there was a yell from behind him.

"Wait-! I... Look, I don't like you."

He paused there for a moment, trying to process exactly what she was doing. Maybe that illness of hers had caused her to lose her marbles.

If she had any to begin with.

"...Thank you for that clarification, I'm-"

"But I... I'm sorry for assuming that you didn't care about Jekyll.” She cut in abruptly. Curious, Robert turned back to her. “I still hold by my point that you're a bad influence and he's not meant for your comfy, stuck-up, puritan-"

"For God's sake, are you going somewhere with this?"

Frankenstein fell silent for a second.

When she spoke again, her voice was soft.

"It's not your fault that he's missing. That's where I'm going. You shouldn't hold yourself accountable for his decisions."

"I... Um... Thanks, I guess? I'm going to sample that food now."

Lanyon strode off trying to ignore whatever the hell just happened.

"Typical. I try to be nice _once…_ "

  
  


Rachel wasn't entirely sure how the contraption she was setting up worked.

After all, she wasn’t a scientist, just a maid who knew a little too well where the lodgers left their dangerous creations unattended.

The sheer amount of times she had to put these things away somewhere that they wouldn’t destroy the building – or, worse, the world – was ridiculous.

Who just left a doomsday device out in the open anyway?

There was an unfortunate lack of instructions so it had taken a lot of trial and error to figure out what she was doing.

Screwdriver in hand, she tightened the last screw and stepped back, wiping the sweat off her brow.

It looked… Ok..? Well, it was definitely nowhere near perfect and half of it looked like it was about to fall down any second but she was doing her best to be optimistic about everything.

Soon, they would have Hyde safely back where they could treat him. He _had_ to show, the trap _had_ to work, and it _couldn’t_ be too late. The alternative…

The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

"Hi Rachel."

Rachel cried out in alarm. The screwdriver clattered to the floor and she whirled around.

Stood there, looking a little embarrassed, was Jasper.

"Jasper, sweetheart-!" Rachel choked out, "What are you doing back here?"

“I… Uh… Didn’t really feel like I was helping much out front?” Jasper shuffled his feet awkwardly. “And I remembered that I saw you slip back here alone earlier and I thought... Maybe I could help with whatever you're doing..?"

"I... That's sweet but..." She hesitated. Jasper could be trusted, right? He wasn't a gossip like the others and he was kind enough.

For a second, she shut her eyes, thinking.

"You should help at the front. I'm just finishing up here." She finished at last.

“Ah, I see. So… I guess we can both find someone else to help together?”

...Oh no.

"Well, it's not... I just…” She faltered, caught out. “It's not that I'm finished in here, I just have a few more tasks to do that all require one person. Wait, no! - One task! I mean one task. So nothing you can help with, sorry."

Rachel winced immediately. It had sounded awful coming out of her mouth and the look on Jasper’s face told her that the lie hadn’t been missed.

"Ok, sorry, I didn't mean to…" Jasper trailed off with a small shrug, his eyes fixed on his shoes.

Her insides roiled with guilt. This was important. This was very important to keep secret, Jekyll and Hyde’s life could depend on it.

Yet, it was _Jasper._

Who was he even going to tell?

"Ok, look Jasper. The truth is, I'm here to catch Hyde." The words were out before she could put a single second more of thought into it.

Jasper frowned at her.

"I have reason to believe he's going to show up tonight so I'm setting a trap but nobody else can know about it."

"Um..." Jasper eyed up the contraption dubiously, "Not to be mean, miss Pidgley, but this feels... Overdone."

"Hyde's being hunted by the police, I can't let him get away no matter what. If gets caught..."

"I see." Jasper mused for a second. "Is there any way I can help?"

"First of all, can you keep everything quiet?"

"Who am I going to tell? I'm new here."

"I thought so. Can you watch the door and shout if you see anyone else come in?"

"Sure."

Rachel sighed in relief as Jasper wandered off.

Crisis averted.

Her relationship with Jasper was in tact and he wouldn't see a thing of Hyde. Therefore, he wouldn’t put together that Hyde and Jekyll were the same person.

She had told the truth but hadn’t revealed too much. It was perfect, now all she had to do was-

Just then, there was a sound.

Jasper paused where he was and Rachel stiffened.

"That was a window." Rachel hissed to herself, horror dawning.

"...He's here?" Jasper asked in a whisper.

"Much earlier than anticipated."

Her eyes flicked to the trap and she swallowed hard.

It was ready enough but she had wanted a chance to test everything beforehand, to ensure that nothing would go wrong. It wasn't like she could have set this up beforehand with the risk that one of the lodgers could wander back there and see it all.

Something cold settled in her stomach.

Jasper was going to be here to witness it now.

If Hyde said something or Jasper noticed the injury and put two and two together...

"Hide!"

"Yes, I think it is!” Jasper hissed back frantically, “What are we going to do?!"

Rachel grabbed his arm and yanked them both under the nearby table.

There was the sound of shifting and movement. Then, there was a distant clatter and a crash of someone falling into a pile of something fragile.

Rachel winced.

The pair held their breath and waited. It was an agonising time, staring at the bottom of the door from under the table, wondering if they had chosen a good hiding place, wondering if they had time to find a new one.

Then, slowly, the door opened and someone stepped into the room.

It was a stumbling step, lacking any sort of grace or even balance.

Rachel screwed her eyes shut upon hearing it. How bad had Hyde become over the past few days?

Well, thankfully, he was alive at least.

She could see his shoes from under the table. They were Jekyll's all-too-large shoes and they slapped a little on the floor as he went, his trouser legs rolled up to stop him tripping on them.

She could see the sickly pale skin, the sharp angles of bone under his skin, bruised and covered in tiny cuts.

Her hand clapped over her mouth to stop a muffled whimper at the sight.

Unaware that he was being watched, Hyde made his way into the room.

  
  


Robert was eating when he saw a pair of lodgers wandering in a very bad direction.

Quickly, shoving the chicken he was eating in his pockets without any time to think about what he was doing, he rushed over.

"Is something the matter, ladies?" He asked nervously, causing Lavender and Cantilupe to look up.

"Oh, one of our demonstrations absolutely wrecked the table we were using so we were going to go and get another." Lavender replied, "The spare tables were in the back rooms, right?"

"Yes- No! I mean-"

Taking a few breaths, Robert hurriedly steadied himself.

Think, Robert, _think._

"Rachel's still back there, I'll go and get the table for you with her."

The pair frowned at him.

"I don't think you should leave your things alone.” Robert continued quickly, “If something happens, there should be an expert here to keep an eye on things."

"Ito's looking after them."

"Is she an expert in your field?" He asked back pointedly.

"Well... I suppose not." Cantilupe mused. "And if something went wrong, it could be messy..." She looked up at him. "Are you sure you and Rachel can handle the table?"

"It's just a table, how hard could it be?" Robert laughed.

The pair nodded.

"Thank you, Dr Lanyon."

Cantilupe turned and left but Lavender hesitated a moment.

"Is something the matter?" He asked nervously.

"...I was going to ask you the same." She took a breath. "You've been acting more... Helpful, since what happened to Jekyll."

A pause.

"I know that wording sounds bad, but I'm worried.” Lavender continued. “You're not doing all of this out of guilt, are you?"

"Guilt?"

"You look exhausted. I don't know you all that well but I feel that, perhaps, you blame yourself for Jekyll escaping and now you're trying your hardest to make up for it."

"I'm not-" Robert groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't feel guilty. I'm just trying to help in his absence since Jekyll isn't here to help."

"I see." She nodded. "Just... Take care of yourself, alright? Get some rest at some point?"

With that, she turned and left.

"I should start a bloody tally of people asking about my health." Robert grumbled.

Now he had to get that table quickly before Hyde showed up.

It was too early in the night to worry about Hyde being there already. He and Rachel could surely drag out a table in that time, he just needed to be quick.

Keeping that in mind, he turned and pushed his way through the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hamster once that escaped into the house. We got her back eventually but I was told to be careful around her for a while after that because she had probably gone a bit feral while she was gone which meant she might bite me. 
> 
> For some reason, I thought about that a lot during this chapter and the next one.
> 
> Hyde's not an animal and he probably wouldn't go feral just from being lost a few days but he _is_ injured, delirious, just generally Hyde. Plus, if I remember correctly, Hyde physically can't sleep without becoming Jekyll so he's probably only gotten rest via flat-out passing out on the floor. So, yeah, Hyde might be a tad aggressive about now and that's not going to be great for Lanyon.


	14. The Rube Goldberg Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly bit of roughhousing with absolutely no stakes or danger in the least and Hyde gets a completely harmless flashbang to the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for more doubting one's own reality/gaslighting, more blood, and Edward Hyde being slightly more Edward Hyde than usual.

_When Hyde awoke, the first thing he noted was it felt like his brains had been liquefied._

_Tangled in layers and layers of blankets like a fly caught in a spiderweb, his skin boiled, soaked through with more sweat than he thought a human body could even produce._

_With heavy lidded eyes, he blinked up at the white walls of the medical room. There was still brown smudges from dried blood on the walls but, considering how many people had been in there recently, he couldn’t have said who it belonged to – if it belonged to a singular person at all. The lights had been left on, bright against the white, hurting his weary eyes._

_He was alone._

_Out the door, in the society beyond, there was nothing but an overwhelming silence. Oppressive, as though every thing in the world had disappeared apart from the inside of that room._

_“Doctor Jekyll?” Hyde hissed, blinking and squinting in the light, “What happened?”_

_“...Hurts.” Was the faint, slurred response from his head._

_“It’s not that bad, you big baby.”_

_In all fairness, it was pretty bad but he wasn’t showing any weakness to Dr Jekyll of all people._

_Hyde waited for a snappy response from the doctor, pointing out that Hyde had, in fact, been passed out in the medical room so it had to be pretty bad or Edward Hyde was the one being a baby._

_Oddly, however, Jekyll didn’t complain back. The doctor remained completely silent._

_Curiously, Hyde mentally prodded him._

_Jekyll felt strangely weak. It was like trying to hold an image in his head of an old memory – details blurred and smudged together into a blended mess until it was unclear what had been made up by imagination and what was truly remembered . Jekyll hung just on the cusp of his waking mind and some depths of the subconscious._

_Peculiar._

_He supposed the doctor was somewhere further down in the hall of memories at that time._

_It wasn’t a sensation that Hyde was used to. Although Hyde let himself drift down into unthinking often while the boring doctor was in control, Jekyll usually preferred to stay closer to the real world, to keep an eye on what Hyde was up to. So he knew what needed fixing later._

_No doubt he was currently hiding from the pain._

_Hyde tutted at his cowardice and turned his attention away from his other half. Instead, he wracked his brain, trying to recall what had happened._

_His brain was a sludgy mess, a mixture of fevered heat and the mental quicksand of old sleep that made it difficult to think straight._

_He remembered..._

_...What **did** he remember..?_

_Blinking rapidly in a weak attempt to properly rouse himself from sleep, he rooted through his memories, picking out what details were from last night’s fever dreams and what had actually happened._

_He recalled demonstrating to Lanyon that he was, in fact, Edward Hyde. He had taken the potion, transformed, and then..._

_And then..?_

_How had he landed in the medical room from that? He should have escaped – run out the doors and never come back._

_Frowning, Hyde tried to sit up but, to his surprise, he couldn’t – Instead, something tugged at his arms, holding him down. A little perturbed by the unexpected block, he turned to look._

_For a moment, he couldn’t quite register what he was looking at._

_Loops of rope were tied around his wrists and ankles, binding him to the bedposts. It was the thick, strong type, the texture rough and unpleasant, grating against his skin._

_He blinked. Squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again as though the ropes would just disappear._

_No, this wasn’t a dream, he really was tied down._

_Feeling detached from the situation, Hyde pulled at them again, curiously._

_After all, he couldn’t be tied down. He was quite sure he hadn’t been doing anything kinky recently (unfortunately). He was in the body of Edward Hyde and the last thing he recalled was transforming. Therefore, to get from point A to point B, if he was tied down that could only mean-_

_With a jolt of alarm, Hyde began to desperately yank at the ropes, quickly becoming more and more agitated, definitely awake now. The ropes remained firm, scratching painfully at his wrists and refusing to give by any amount no matter how hard he tugged and pulled and heaved._

_Why was he tied down?_

_**Why was he tied down?!** _

_They weren’t really going to send him to Bedlam, were they?! Sure, he had caused a bit of trouble but it was all harmless, wasn’t it?_

_Ok, fine, maybe it wasn’t! But still-! This wasn’t fair! It had just been one fire! Surely they could forgive him for one little mistake?!_

_It was. It was fair, he realized painfully. Technically, he **was** a wanted criminal._

_But still-!_

_Ok, ok. Calm down. Deep breaths._

_Breathing was a struggle but he forced himself to do it, forced himself to calm down._

_His heart was pounding a mile a minute, his insides twisting themselves into painful knots that he just wished would go away. His body was almost vibrating, the muscles seeming to twitch beneath the skin, unpleasantly tensed to spring._

_Think, Hyde, think!_

_Jekyll!_

_Jekyll might remember something, right? Something that Hyde just hadn’t been paying attention to?_

_“Henry? Doctor? What happened? Why are we here?”_

_As he spoke, he tugged at the ropes. They were too tight, too tight, he wanted them off, they were abrasive against his skin, they hurt, they were too tight, too tight, too tight-!_

_To his increasing alarm, there was no immediate response from the doctor._

_“Henry?” He asked again, with more urgency, mentally prodding the doctor, hoping to stir him a little. His throat choked out the sounds as though he was close to tears, breaths strangled and gasping, eyes frustratingly wet._

_At last, just when Hyde was about to completely descend into panic, Henry mumbled a little._

_“...Am I mad..? Is this real..?” Henry said hazily, driving Hyde’s fear sharply up. "...Maybe the sky **is** green..? Have I looked outside lately?”_

_“Snap out of it! What the **hell** did they do to you?!”_

_They wouldn’t really have hurt Henry, would they? Sure, they hated Edward, but they liked Dr Jekyll, didn’t they?_

_Yet, now he was starting to reconsider Henry’s faint presence. Maybe it wasn’t an act of cowardice from Henry, after all._

_Maybe…_

_Maybe, because of the connection he had with Edward, they had turned on Henry too._

_After Hyde had transformed, Robert and Rachel had turned against Jekyll and done something terrible to him. That was why he couldn’t remember anything after transforming, that was why he was in the medical bay, tied down, that was why Henry seemed to be fading away from him. That was why it hurt._

_“Henry, please stay with me.” He begged. He was aware of the annoying crack to his voice but he was scared._

_Henry was a part of him, his conscience. If something happened to Henry, what would become of Edward? Would he go crazy? Would his own self-awareness start to fade?_

_Would it be a slow death?_

_His own head felt so foggy and now he feared he wasn’t the last dredges of sleep after all but something far more sinister._

_Frantically, Hyde’s eyes flicked about, looking for something, anything. A sign of what had been done to himself and Dr Jekyll._

_How long had he been there? There was no real sign in the room. The clock above ticked on quietly, telling him that it was morning but there was no date given. He could have been there for a day or he could have been there for weeks._

_Either way, he had been in the form of Edward Hyde far longer than ever before._

_Was that the reason for Henry’s deterioration, perhaps? He wanted to believe so. He wanted to believe that things weren’t so bad that his friends would truly turn on Dr Jekyll as well._

_Jekyll always did go on about how important his reputation was but Hyde shuddered at the thought that it was so important that his very life was forfeit without it._

_What should he do about it? Find the potion and change back?_

_No, he couldn’t. If his friends really had turned on him, Henry didn’t have Hyde’s skill at escaping. They couldn’t take that risk._

_Hopefully, Henry could hold out for just a few more days. When the time was right, he could get back into the society and steal back his potion. Then things would be alright. Then, Dr Jekyll will be his usual annoying self and they could both get out of there._

_“Is that a good plan, do you think?” He asked Henry, hopefully._

_Henry responded by mumbling something about exhibition plans._

_Hyde tried not to shake so much, biting the inside of his cheek hard, hoping to distract himself from the fear. The sick feeling in his stomach remained. He wanted to throw up._

_Hurriedly, his eyes flicked about the room, looking for an escape._

_They landed on the ropes. Theoretically, if he could just slip the ropes over the posts, he would be free but the posts were rather unfortunately shaped in such a way that made it difficult. They were narrower in the middle and wider at the top, the ropes done around the narrower section._

_But, he thought to himself, he might be able to wriggle it loose and free with enough effort. The bed wasn’t designed to have people tied to it, after all._

_Might? Of course he could. He was The Spirit of London at Night, he could do anything._

_With that in mind, he pulled his arms up._

_The ropes strained painfully against his wrists, the bones screaming at the awkward angle but he ignored the pain and forced harder._

_The width felt too wide to allow the ropes any higher. He left them drop for a second._

_To his annoyance, the ropes didn’t seem any looser._

_He gritted his teeth and pulled again, twisting awkwardly to try to get a greater force behind it. There was a tingling in his arms, the blood flow through them lessened by the awkward angle. Still, it was ignored._

_Hyde just pulled harder and harder, the ropes straining against his wrists, the friction burning, the wood posts pressed into his hands. His head spun, a light-headedness falling over him. Steadily, his hands began to turn red, then purple._

_Finally, he let his arms drop._

_A nasty wave of pins and needles shot down his arm. Breathing heavily from the effort, Hyde lamented his inability to stretch it out._

_Chest still heaving, his eyes shot back to the ropes._

_No give. He was still tied down just as tightly._

_Frustrated, he twisted his body around and snapped at the ropes with his teeth. His anxious stomach churned at the thought of sticking anything in his mouth, even if it wasn’t to swallow, but fear overcame illness._

_When his mouth couldn’t quite reach, he stuck out his tongue as far as he could, managing to just touch the rope. It tasted disgusting and Hyde pulled a face._

_For a moment, he moved back into a slightly less unpleasant position. Then, with all the force he could muster, he launched himself forward and, to his disgust and relief, he caught the rope in his teeth. The bits of rope lodged in his teeth and scraped against his tongue but he endured, biting down as hard as he could. When that didn’t immediately work, he dragged his teeth up and down, trying to fray it with his teeth._

_“...Stop.”_

_Startled, Hyde let go of the rope and was disappointed to watch it ping back out of reach. Spitting out bits of rope, Hyde turned his attention to Henry._

_“Stop?” He asked. He was annoyed at the distraction but he was so nervous for Henry’s state of mind that he was desperate to get anything coherent out of the doctor. “Why?”_

_“...This isn’t real. You’re not real. This is just some trick.”_

_“You’re not seriously still thinking about that whole ‘gaslighting’ thing are you?”_

_“None of this is real. I’m in control, I can… Control myself…”_

_“ **I’m** in control.” Hyde argued back, “And I’m saving both of our bloody asses.”_

_“No… Can’t leave… Need to get you… Out of my head...”_

_Hyde rolled his eyes and looked back at the ropes. His stomach was protesting even more at the thought of biting it again and he feared he would actually throw up if he tried that stunt again._

_Instead, he twisted himself back into the right position to pull the ropes again._

_It was more of an attempt out of hopelessness than anything he actually thought would work. To his amazement though, the rope gave just a little. By just the slightest amount, it was pulled higher over the posts than his last attempt._

_His eyes widened with new light. Maybe it was a fool's hope, maybe it was just his imagination, but Hyde was not the sort to simply give up._

_For a second, he let go and shuffled himself into a better position, then he tried again._

_To his delight, bit by bit, the rope was wriggled higher. The loops of rope around his wrists grew tighter as those around the bedposts grew looser, the blood flow to his hands being cut off._

_He didn't care though. Getting out was his only goal._

_Inch by inch._

_Little by little._

_“This isn’t real.” Henry continued, his voice wavering dangerously. “You’re not real. This is just a dream.”_

_His arm felt completely numb but he ignored it just like he ignored Dr Jekyll. He was too close to give in now._

_Finally, with one last little wriggle, the ropes popped out._

_The sudden release of pressure as the ropes fell away was a euphoric feeling. It could have even rivalled the euphoria of his first transformation and Hyde had to stifle back a hysterical burst of laughter. He couldn't be sure if anyone was listening silently outside that door, best to keep quiet._

_There was a vivid red mark around his wrist, already turning purple with bruising. Unable to nurse the pain properly, he just shook the freed hand, relieved._

_Ignoring the ache, he reached over and undid the knots on the other arm, then his legs._

_Within mere moments, he had slipped out of his confinement and was sat up, rubbing his bruised wrist. The motion of sitting up made his head spin in a nauseating fashion but he was free and that was all that mattered._

_Better._

_Now what?_

_Still shaking life back into his dead hands, his eyes alighted on the door._

_He swallowed._

_If he tried to escape, someone would surely try to stop him and drag him back. Worse, if they thought he would escape again, they might do worse to him. Maybe the next time he awoke, Henry would be gone completely. Or maybe he wouldn't wake again at all._

_Yet, how could he possibly stay there? They would do any manner of things to him, with him powerless to stop them._

_No, he had to take a chance._

_Hyde stumbled to his feet and, as quietly as possible, wandered over to the door._

_The ground seemed to wobble beneath him as he walked, his legs feeling horribly weak, as though he hadn't used them in years._

_For all he knew, that could be the truth._

_With just a few steps, he already felt exhausted. When he reached the door, he immediately fell against it to rest, taking the excuse to listen for anyone on the other side._

_“Please don’t.” Henry begged quietly in his head. “This is just a dream. Please wake up, Henry. Wake up.”_

_There wasn’t the slightest sound on the other side._

_Satisfied, Hyde stepped back from the door. He shook out his stiff limbs one last time in preparation, breathing deeply to calm himself._

_Finally, he pushed the handle down._

_Mistake._

_He realized something was off the moment he pushed at the door. In that instant, he briefly noted that the doorhandles was slightly stiffer than usual. There was no other thoughts about it beyond that because, just a millisecond later, all Hell broke loose._

_A splitting shriek rang out, causing Hyde to clap his hands over his ears, and the air before him lit up with a crackle and bang of electricity, the light blinding. For that second, the world around him was burning white and noise, searing into his retinas with a stabbing pain, corkscrewing through his ears and brain until he could hear nothing else._

_Hyde felt his mouth open as he screamed, but heard nothing but that dreadful, continued wail, drowning out all other noise._

_Then, at long last, silence fell and everything went dark._

_In Hyde's head, however, the ringing continued. His skull felt like a gong that someone had taken a mallet to, just continuing to go on and on and on._

_His eyes fluttered in a daze. Every time he blinked, the afterglow of red echoed against his sight._

_Hyde just stood there, trying to process what had just happened._

_Distantly, he was aware of his own laboured breaths. They sounded like they came from miles and miles away, drifting and swelling against that consistent ring._

_He probably could have stood there all day, blinking and swaying in a haze. It was only when he faintly heard a bewildered yell from somewhere further in the building that Hyde remembered where he was and what he was doing._

_His entire body feeling like it was still vibrating from the shock, Hyde started to sprint._

_As much as he would have liked to make a clean escape, Hyde kept stumbling into every piece of furniture along the way. The floor beneath him just kept moving too much to keep in a straight line and the building around him blurred into a swathe of confusion and a tangle of halls. The corridors he once knew by heart became a trailing, worming maze of locked doors, turns, and circles that he just couldn’t navigate no matter how much he tried._

_He should have known where the exit was, should have known it like the back of his hand, but it was Hyde’s hand that he had right now, not the one he had grown up with and the society was a bloody labyrinth._

_Everything was a haze of ringing and bright lights that shone too bright and white walls and red and moving floors and a tilting, sickening void of white and red. His identity, his memories, what he was doing all melted into a sticky mess of panic that clung to every aspect of him, a spider's cocoon, stronger, harder to escape the more he struggled against it._

_He couldn't even recall who he was running from anymore. Every unseen corner melding into the imagined faces of monsters leering over him, all teeth and claws, ready to snatch him up. In twisting, uncoordinated motions, he threw himself away from every shadow, every glimpse of movement, his lungs screaming to let him breathe._

_He was scared and sick and dizzy and stumbling and he didn't know where the floor was or where the exit was and he wanted out, he wanted to go home, he wanted to be free, he just wanted-_

_He hit someone._

_The pair of them went tumbling to the floor, a spill of limbs and confusion._

_"I've got him!" His captor yelled out._

_Arms snaked around his waist, locking him in place. Hyde yelled out, kicking and writhing in a frenzy._

_No, no! He couldn't go back! He couldn't die like this! This had all been a trap – the ropes, the stunning light and noise, his weakness, whatever had been done to Dr Jekyll, the capture – they all intended to keep him here, to trap him and leave him to rot. They were doing everything they could to keep him there, to keep him weak, to keep him down. They were going to kill him! He was about to-_

_"...Hyde, why are you wearing Dr Jekyll's clothes?"_

_At the sound of his name, Hyde snapped back into focus._

_Steadily, the room around him swam back into view and he could finally see the faces around him._

_It wasn't the faces of any horrible monsters that fell into view. Instead, he was faced with perfectly human people._

_He could name every one of the people there. They were all crowded about him with concern on their faces._

_Holding him close wasn't some creature about to eat him but, rather, the known face of Archer. He looked a little puzzled at the situation but not hostile or violent._

_Annoyed, both at his moment of hysteria and being caught like this, Hyde began to struggle again._

_"False alarm." Archer apologized to the others, unperturbed by Hyde's wriggling, still holding him firmly. "Did anyone else see where he went?"_

_"Let go of me, you chicken-striped melon!"_

_Everyone stared at Hyde for a moment at that._

_"That's... An unusual thing to say." Lavender took a step forward and frowned at him. "Are you ok, Hyde? You look a little sickly."_

_He **felt** sickly. Maybe if he told Archer that he was about to throw up, he might be let go._

_"Of course he does." Griffin huffed from the back. "He's been hiding from the police for ages. He's probably gotten into trouble in that time."_

_"Or he's just malnourished." Suggested Ito. "I don't think someone can go food shopping while they're a wanted criminal."_

_"OR, he ate something out of the bins and now he has food poisoning." Helsby added._

_Archer looked rather nervously at Hyde in his arms at that last statement. Hyde gagged to punctuate the point and Archer went rather green, although he didn't let go._

_Ito mused for a second._

_"Archer, does he have a fever?"_

_"He feels kind of hot." Archer confessed._

_"It's settled. He's sick."_

_"Can't be **that** sick if he's sprinting down the bloody corridor like that." Griffin grumbled._

_A moment of silence. Hyde gagged again, wishing he could actually throw up. Instead, it was just an unpleasant pain in his throat every time he tried._

_"So... What now?"_

_"What do you mean 'What now'?" Sharply, Cantilupe turned on Griffin, "He needs food and somewhere to sleep!"_

_"Right. But we're currently standing in the society."_

_"So?" Cantilupe replied curtly, crossing her arms._

_"So." Archer cut in, turning to glare at her. "What happens when Lanyon catches him here?"_

_Silence._

_"He was the one who wanted Hyde arrested to begin with." Archer continued. "If he finds Hyde here, he'll be arrested for sure."_

_Hyde had frozen very still at those words._

_"We could hide him?"_

_"You think Hyde will stay put? He must have been hiding somewhere up until this point and it must have worked so far if he hasn't been caught. Maybe we should just let him return there."_

_"No way! Look at him! He looks like he's practically dying!"_

_"Well the alternative is he rots in jail! I'm sure he'll look pretty damn dead then!"_

_"Look at him! He can't look any worse in prison than he does now!"_

_"Are you kidding me? They'll eat him alive! You don't know what happens to people like him in places like that!"_

_"Well if we hide him well enough, he won't have to go to jail at all!"_

_"This is Hyde we're talking about! How the bloody Hell do we ever keep him hidden in one place?!"_

_Just then, a hand went into the air. Everyone turned to look at the owner of the hand._

_"How about," Lavender said slowly, lowering her hand with a pointed expression, "instead of talking like he isn't right there, we ask him?"_

_Everyone stared at her. Then they all looked at Hyde._

_Wide-eyed, Hyde glanced between them all, feeling uncomfortable at being stared at by so many people._

_He was still on the floor and, although he was rather short anyway, there was something off-putting at the way that they all stared down at him._

_It made him feel so awfully small, looking up at them like that, like a mouse or some other pest. Weak and completely at their mercy. Stuck in a trap and hoping that those who put him there would have the sympathy to set him free._

_"I am not dealing with Lanyon, he'll kill me!" Hyde snapped, much more weakly than he had hoped. "I'm leaving whether you chuckleheads allow it or not!"_

_"Then that's settled." Archer said victoriously. "Hyde wants to leave."_

_"This is a bad idea." Cantilupe retorted._

_"He's done fine on his own up until now, what's the problem?"_

_Ito pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, fine, but we're sending him off with food and supplies. He may have done great at hiding but clearly his health has been somewhat of a challenge."_

_"I want cookies."_

_"A balanced diet is important."_

_“Cookies.” Hyde insisted._

_A roll of the eyes._

_“Let’s just… Get him those supplies and get him out of here. Who knows when Lanyon will return?”_

_Archer stood, dusting himself off. Then, a hand was offered to Hyde._

_For a brief second, Hyde looked at it like it might bite him. Could he trust them or were they just returning him to his imprisonment?_

_But he had been over this before, had he not? The lodgers could be trusted. They got the poison off him earlier._

_Admittedly, he didn’t remember why he had been poisoned but he swore he recalled something of the sort._

_At last, he took the hand. With that, Hyde was helped to his feet and away._

_As he left, there was a mumbling in his head._

_“This can’t be real, none of this is real because Hyde isn’t real. Therefore… Therefore… I don’t need to worry, do I..? Nothing’s actually happening so I don’t need to do anything… I should just… Wait until I wake up from this dream. Then, I’ll get the help I need. Robert will help me get through this and everything will turn out alright.”_

_Then, with one last flicker of consciousness, Jekyll fell completely silent._

_When Hyde prodded where he had been, it was almost like there was just a hole there. A Dr Jekyll shaped hole._

_As he left, for once in his life, his head was perfectly silent._

  
  


It was surprisingly quiet in the back rooms.

The lights were out, making the entire place feel abandoned and making the darkness clot thickly in the corners. Boxes, tables, and chairs were stacked haphazardly at the sides, casting dark shadows across the floor.

Lanyon scarcely dared to breathe as he walked. Any noise felt like he was disturbing something. It was like walking into a room where someone was asleep and hoping that you didn't wake them up. Even his footsteps echoed painfully in the silence.

Somehow, Lanyon had expected to hear Rachel bustling about the moment he entered but he heard nothing of the sort.

Maybe her trap was more simplistic than he had expected. With a society of mad scientists, he had expected some loud, massive contraption made of God knew what but it seemed he should have given her more credit than that. It was far too quiet for her to be working on anything too big at that moment.

That or she had disappeared off somewhere.

He frowned at the thought.

With the eerie silence, he was starting to fear that she wasn’t back there at all at that moment.

If she had disappeared off to do something and wasn't there to help him with the table, he would have to manoeuvrer it out alone before anyone got suspicious and he wasn’t sure he could do it in a timely fashion. If one of the lodgers wondered what was taking so long and came back there…

Just then, there was a shuffling noise.

If it hadn’t been so quiet, he could never have hoped to hear it. As it was, it rang out in the silence, echoing against the walls long after it had finished.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and quickened his step.

"Rachel?" He called out, wincing at how loud his voice sounded in the quiet. "Can I borrow you for a second? I need-"

Then he turned the corner and his eyes met with the person that was there.

It was a startlingly vivid colour that met his gaze, a bright green unlike any he had ever seen before and certainly not Rachel’s darker shade of green.

Every muscle was tensed, frozen like a wild animal about to flee. Clothes that were far too large were draped over them, stained with dried blood. Hair stuck out at all ends as though someone who had been electrocuted and there was a feral but terrified look in those eyes. Teeth bared into an animalistic snarl.

It was a figure he had spent a long time, many sleepless nights, watching over. The figure he had examined almost obsessively, monitoring for any change.

Well, there was certainly a change now.

As it turned out, Edward Hyde was far different awake than asleep.

The creature before him looked absolutely awful, a delirious gentleman who had spent the last few days being forced to scavenge the streets to survive, hunted by the police. Worse, his _closest friend,_ deteriorated into something else while his back was turned.

The sight should have impacted him more, yet all he felt was disgust.

There was nothing of Henry in that thing. It felt as though he was merely staring at a stranger – their hardships meant nothing to him, their life story was a mystery, and they could have been any stumbling drunkard on the streets for all the emotion he felt for them.

He swallowed hard, feeling guilty for thinking that way.

"Henry..?"

That name clogged in his throat, feeling so strongly like the wrong name to refer to this animal.

It also seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

Without warning, Hyde turned and ran for the window. Lanyon was immediately snapped out of his trance and, before he could think twice, practically threw himself at Hyde, tackling him to the floor.

In the blur of motion as he was fully thrust into the room, the insides of that room became startlingly clear to him.

Above them, a cobweb of machinery dangled. Metal glinted in the light, spiralling ropes and strings that stretched out in every direction, hanging on the ceiling, between the walls, criss-crossing over one another again and again.

In the centre, like the deformed spider that had made the web, was a metal cage.

It was immense, the bars stretching out like segmented legs, ready to snatch up them both. The bloated body was made of twisted steel bars, melted and fused together with little thought to appearance, just to functionality. It appeared deformed, unsymmetrical, hanging at a worrisome angle.

Light glittered off the body, pinpricks like hundreds of tiny, glowing eyes, blinking and staring down on them.

The haphazard job trademarked it as the work of one of the lodgers, although he couldn’t have said whose.

Clearly Rachel had been there. The question was, where was she now?

Silently, he cursed her for disappearing at a time like this, he wasn't sure what to do now that he had Hyde in his grip and he didn't know how the trap worked.

His eyes darted about rapidly, looking for something he could do, Hyde squirming beneath him ferociously.

He saw cogs, pipes, beams glistening. That was when his eyes caught on something else – something non-metallic. One barely visible thread stretched across the floor, only visible by the slightest glint of light that played along it.

It was a tripwire.

As Hyde planted a too-large shoe against his stomach (thankfully rather weakly), Robert reached for the tripwire.

His fingers scrabbled on the floor, just out of reach, and Robert cursed.

"No!"

Robert's eyes flicked back at the noise, to the animal pinned beneath him. Crazed eyes met his own.

"I'm not letting you kill me!" Hyde snapped, pushing helplessly against the arms pinning him down, "I'm not dying like this!"

"Nobody's trying to kill you." Robert snarled back, once more directing his attention to the tripwire.

If he wanted to grab it, he may have to shift position a little but, in doing so, he could easily lose grip of Hyde.

He didn't see any point in arguing with Edward – it only took one look in those eyes to know that Hyde probably wasn't listening to a word he was saying. His chats with a delirious Dr Jekyll already told him exactly what to expect from all of this.

Until the trap was sprung, what Hyde thought didn’t matter at all.

  
  


Edward was doing his best not to scream.

The floor was pressed hard against his back and it felt as though every nerve there had been doused in gasoline and set alight. It was wet but somehow burning simultaneously, a thousand tiny needles stabbing into him.

It seemed clear to him that Robert was killing him already but he was just too weak to escape.

Where was anyone else?! Where were the lodgers?!

Heck, at this point he would give anything to even see Rachel with her smothering attitude. At least she wouldn’t allow this, surely?

He tried to kick Lanyon but his worn shoes flopped about on his feet, threatening to fall off instead.

"You're not killing me again!" Hyde continued defiantly.

If he was going down, he was going down swinging. He kicked his shoes off, whacking Lanyon in the face as they went.

Instead of instantly killing his attacker in a brutal spray of blood like he had hoped, they just flopped against Lanyon, slightly ruffling his hair. As they fell back down, they smacked Hyde in his own face.

"Again?!” Robert scoffed, disbelievingly. “Look, I get that absolutely nothing I'm going to say is going to get through whatever delusional slush you call a brain right now but – _Surprise!_ If I had killed you before, you wouldn’t be _alive_ right now!"

Hyde tried to struggle harder but Robert responded to his writhing by pressing him into the floor even harder.

The pain that shot through him took his breath away and black spots prickled on the edge of his vision.

Hyde choked down a howl of agony. Determined to not seem weak in what could be his final moments, Hyde gritted his teeth through it. There was no way he was giving Lanyon the satisfaction.

"I wasn't really alive after what you did to me, you murderer!"

  
  


Robert shouldn't have been arguing back with Hyde.

He already knew it was fruitless to try to reason with Hyde, the things he was saying were completely and utterly insane. From his words, it was clear he didn't have the slightest grasp on reality at that moment.

Yet, at the baseless accusation and the heat of the moment, he instead found himself yelling back indignantly.

"What I did to you?!"

A flash of anger crossed Hyde's face at those words.

Somehow, despite the blood loss and starvation, his cheeks still managed to bloom a bright and furious red.

_"After you left me!"_

Robert's words died in his throat.

"I see how it is." Hyde growled, seeming to miss the growing horror on Lanyon's face. "I got a new life in the form of Edward Hyde after you killed my old one so you've decided to kill me a second time."

Those wild eyes fixed on him.

"This time, more directly." Hyde finished with a rattling hiss.

All of a sudden, the room felt ever so quiet.

It was just the two of them there. The only sound was their breathing and the almost silent creak of the trap hanging above. The exhibition was a long way away, Rachel was nowhere in sight.

Just the two of them alone.

Robert couldn't move. A trickling, cold doubt was beginning to make its way down his spine at Hyde's words. He wanted to believe that this was simply Hyde's inane rambling just like Henry had done.

Yet, he had a creeping suspicion that there was more to it than that.

"...Henry..." Lanyon choked the word out. It was ever so loud in the silence. "Can you please explain what you mean?"

Hyde's face darkened.

"Don't play dumb, you snake! You spent all that time worming your way into my heart until I was practically wrapped around your little finger, until you were my entire life, just so you could rip that away from me!"

With that, Hyde slammed a well aimed kick directly into Lanyon's face. Too stunned to see it coming and prepare, Robert stumbled backwards, releasing Hyde.

Hyde was instantly to his feet and running.

Blood was spilling from Robert's nose but that was the furthest thing from him mind at that time. In a panic, he stared up at the fleeing figure.

He had waited for too long just for Henry to slip through his fingers again now but it seemed impossible to catch up anymore. Hyde was just too far.

Despite this, Lanyon began to force himself to his feet.

He didn’t care how futile it was, he had to try to catch up, he had to try to stop him. He couldn’t let Henry slip through his fingers – not again, not when they had been so close, not when so much was at stake, and not when the last words they ever shared would be those.

Not when the last thing he ever heard from his friend was an insult.

Then, in his rush to get away, Hyde hit the tripwire.

His bare foot caught on the wire and, with a cry, Hyde toppled. The wire snapped and the mechanical parts above them whirred and clanked. Cogs spun, beams shifted. The moment he hit the floor, Hyde was already shoving himself back to his feet, frantically.

He was too late though.

There was a resounding clang of finality and the cage engulfed them both.

For a second, Lanyon’s brain didn't even process that the trap had worked. His panic still beat clearly like a drum, telling him that Hyde was getting away from him. In his chest, his heart was racing a mile a minute. It was difficult to breathe.

Like a wounded animal, Hyde screeched and threw himself against the bars of the cage. Again and again, he slammed against the cage, running from place to place, looking for any weakness in the cage that he could use. Nothing budged. For all its broken and crooked appearance, the cage held firm.

"Oh, thank God, it worked." A voice piped up.

Robert turned.

Steadily getting out from under the table and dusting herself off was Rachel.

And Jasper.

Slowly, Robert blinked, looking a little owlish as he tried to get his head around what was going on.

"...Rachel? How long have you both been listening to that..?” He asked carefully, “And... why is _he_ here?"

"Um... It was an accident?" Rachel shrugged apologetically, helping Jasper to his feet. "But the trap worked at least."

"Great. The werewolf boy knows and I'm trapped in here.” He wanted to show more concern about the situation but the adrenaline was wearing off and he just felt way too exhausted to care. “Can I get out of here?"

At that, Rachel at least had to decency to look a little sheepish before she responded.

"I... Don't think so." She admitted, "I can't let you out without releasing Hyde. We'll have to wait until the exhibition is over and we can get him out safely."

At that point Hyde, who had been only contributing to the conversation in snarls and howls, yelled out, startling everyone.

"Rachel, you traitor!" He rattled the bars, practically frothing at the mouth, "How could you do this to me?! You know what he'll do to me!"

“I would like to say, I’m not sure I feel safe in here with him either.” Robert piped up mildly.

"Sorry. As I said, we can't risk Hyde escaping.” Rachel answered, “Don't worry, I'm sure he's not _that_ dangerous."

To punctuate her point, Hyde made the absolutely not at all dangerous gesture of trying to claw at her through the bars, spitting and hissing madly.

"See? Harmless."

Rachel laughed nervously.

There was a long pause. Everyone just stood there awkwardly in silence, beside Hyde who was making enough noise for all of them.

Abruptly, Robert's head shot up with a curse.

"Two of the lodgers wanted a table from back here! If I don't bring that table to them soon, they'll start to get suspicious! How am I supposed to do that from in here?!"

He had forgotten in all the commotion. How long had it been already? How much longer did they have to get that table?

"Jasper and I will handle that." Rachel hurriedly assured. She turned to Jasper.

The werewolf boy was looking more than a little out of place in all of this. His eyes were fixed worriedly on Hyde, flicking anxiously between him and Robert.

"Um... Rachel..?" He asked, saying his first words since the conversation started. "...What... What is this _really_ all about..?"

"Uh... How about we get that table and we can all talk about this afterwards? All of us." She scratched the back of her head. "Robert? Will you be alright alone with him? It'll take the two of us to carry a table so..."

"So I don't get a choice." Robert finished bluntly, pushing himself as far away in the cage from Hyde as he could.

The little animal seemed to have had the same idea since, unable to get through the bars, he had settled for glowering darkly at Lanyon from the other side of the cage. His eyes glittered with unspoken malice.

"Just come back quickly.” Robert finished. “Please?"

"We'll be as quick as we can." Rachel promised.

Gently, like coaxing a scared animal, she lead the shocked Jasper away to where the tables were being kept.

With that, Lanyon and Hyde were alone together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lodgers may be fun but there's so many of them that I don't know how to phrase a scene where they're all talking. It's just so many names but, without them, the scene gets confusing.
> 
> Also, some speculation on Lanyon and Jekyll's relationship and past here but I could also argue that Hyde is very delirious and misremembering things so I think it can slide. I mean, he did claim that Lanyon murdered him so he's not exactly a reliable narrator.
> 
> Why is it that every time I create a paragraph in italics, random spaces keep showing up in my writing? Sorry if you see any in here - I keep removing them but they keep popping up again.


End file.
